


Someone to call home

by sunshine_kitcat (moonkevin)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Enemies to Lovers, Genshin Impact Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Magic, Major Character Injury, Multi, but i would not trust him for dating advice, genshin au, i love xiaojun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28805556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonkevin/pseuds/sunshine_kitcat
Summary: Somewhere between investigating the murder of a god, preparing for an ancient funeral ritual and fighting off an organization of assassins, Yangyang learns to open up, Kunhang learns to trust, and Dejun learns to love.Alternatively, the xiaohenyang genshin au I never knew I needed.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery, Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Liu Yang Yang/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, implied chenji & kunten
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66
Collections: WIP OLYMPICS: WINTER 2020/21





	Someone to call home

**Author's Note:**

> With that out of the way, HAPPY WAYV DAY!!! I barely got this out for WayV day by sprinting nonstop throughout the week lol, but I hope you enjoy it!

_Good night, poor worn hands full of work, and rest your weary soul,_

_And let me close your eyes from this busy world._

_Forget the day’s worries and troubles, just take my hand,_

_Because rest will come for those who love this land._

_May your dreams be blessed with warmth and comfort, like a mother’s embrace._

_May your nightmares never come, let my song lead their chase._

_And if you wander off too far from reality,_

_Just open your eyes, and you’ll be right back here with me._

\- Original Piece

_Slam._

The man jumps, struggling against his handcuffs as he shifts in his chair. The single lantern hanging above him shakes, orange light hazing over the ground as a light breeze blows in from the open window by the side of the interrogation room. It tickles the man’s harsh sandy locks, traces of Dendro magic lingering in his slightly singed hair, proof of his earlier struggle with authority. He looks tired. Defeated. Barely hanging onto his crumbling cover story. They’ve been at it for nearly an hour, after all.

Dejun forces back a satisfied smirk, focusing on work as he slides a pendant over the table. He’s got a talent for breaking people, not breaking character.

“Let’s get back to the point, shall we?” Dejun offers with a quirk of his eyebrows. He contemplates blowing the stray strand of black hair out of his eye, deciding against it in favour of staying in character. The man growls.

“I didn’t steal the Anemoculus,” he tries, surging out of his chair slightly to try and level his gaze with Dejun. He gets close, but a steady hand from behind grips onto his shoulders and forces the man back onto his chair. Dejun doesn’t even so much as blink.

Dejun sighs, getting out of his chair as he flashes his employer, a Knight of Favonius, a pointed look. When Mark had sent him the letter three days ago, all Dejun had to work with was a gut feeling and a witness testimony from a drunken pickpocket. Mark had insisted this was the one who stole a prized Anemoculus offering from a nearby Statue of the Seven, and Dejun wasn’t one to question Mark. The Knight may be a little on the younger side in comparison with his colleagues, but Mark’s intuition was rarely wrong—when it comes to criminals.

One does not discuss Mark’s extensive history with fried eggs.

“Then, pray tell, what could you possibly have been doing near the Windrise Statue of the Seven in the exact timeframe of the theft?” Dejun asks, drawing out his words excruciatingly slow. The man was getting frustrated again, ears burning red with annoyance from the interrogation. He’s quite the impatient one. It won’t take much more until he slips.

“For the last time—“ the man huffs, angry as he screws his eyes shut in a poor attempt to calm down. “I was just taking a fucking piss away from my caravan! Can a guy not do his business without being accused of theft?”

Dejun hums nonchalantly, not reacting to his story. The man grew angrier with each passing bored look Dejun gave his nails.

“Are you even listening to me?!” the man roars, furious as he surges out of his seat again. His strength lifts the chair and tugs at the chains around his body as he surges forwards. He nearly reached Dejun, had it not been for Mark jumping forwards and grabbing him, forcing the man back into his seat and fastening the chains.

“Behave,” Mark growls. “You are being interrogated. Aggressive behaviour will not work favours for you, Davis.”

Ah. So that was his name. Dejun had let it slip his mind again.

Davis growls in return. “This fucking pussy won’t stop asking me the same fucking things! Some detective he is, going around accusing innocent and honest merchants who just want to take a fucking piss! You fucking pretty boys think you can just saunter out and about arresting people because people are too busy tripping over their feet to kiss you to realize the blatant injustice happening!”

Dejun hums nonchalantly at that again, looking up at Mark. Mark seems a little conflicted, evidently swayed by the man’s words. He opens his mouth to say something—something wrong, Dejun is certain—before Dejun chuckles lightly. That snaps Mark out of his daze.

“What’s so funny, pussy?” the man (Dave? Dive? Visa? What was his name again?) growls, resembling a wild boar. Dejun can’t help but snort.

“I’m flattered you consider me attractive, good sir,” Dejun drawls again, still keeping his words at a snail’s pace as he slides himself onto the table, closing the physical distance between them. The man’s cheeks grow red, flustered from the sudden proximity. Dejun himself finds the whole thing ridiculous too, but his old mentor said people crack easily when without their personal space.

“Say, that’s a mighty strong Anemo scent on your neck, good sir. Where’d you get this perfume from?” Dejun asks, pretending to take a whiff. Anemo doesn’t really have a scent, but this man didn’t have to know that. The intended effect was enough.

The man freezes. “A-anemo?” he asks, suddenly nervous. Dejun resists the urge to scoff. Say the right thing and everyone freezes. It’s all too easy, really.

“Hey Mark,” Dejun calls, straightening up to look at his partner. Mark is trying not to shift on his feet, his image of an intimidating, towering Knight a rather stark contrast to his real personality. Dejun can’t take him seriously anymore, after seeing how many times someone can trip over the same tree root in a single hour.

“What could possibly cause such a strong stench of Anemo on a regular, non-Vision holder? I didn’t recall Mondstadt people making perfumes for their Archon. That’s a strictly Liyuean culture, if memory serves,” Dejun asks, staring pointedly at Mark. Please get the message. Please get the message. Please get the message—

Mark’s eyes light up in understanding.

“Anemoculi,” Mark says, fighting back a grin. “The stench stays with you for days. Weeks, even. Not even exposure to a Vision could give that kind of stench.”

The man blanches. Time for the ace move.

Dejun grins, sliding himself off of the table as he turns around to grab an Anemoculus. Mark had prepared it for him per request, even though they have yet to found the stolen one. As far as decoys go, however, this one isn’t half bad. It floats to his hands, following Dejun as he gently set it onto the table. The man seems to pale even further at the sight of it.

“How— I thought I— my caravan— my Anemoculus— how do you have it?” the man stutters, stumbling over his words as his hands reach to touch it.

Bingo.

Dejun snatches the Anemoculus back at the last minute, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh? ‘Your’ Anemoculus? But Mark had simply given me an example to show you?” Dejun pretends to be surprised, raising an eyebrow. The man hurriedly slaps a hand over his mouth, realizing his mistake. Dejun looks to Mark, who’s staring at him in mild awe.

The case had been deemed impossible, no culprit was found in the first 72 hours of investigation. Mark only has a gut feeling, listening to drunk patrons at Angel’s Share talk stories about the new merchants in town. Dejun was his last hope, the only capable investigator in town.

“I trust that’s all you need?” Dejun asks. Mark grins, nodding enthusiastically as he steps in to take the decoy Anemoculus. It crumbles away at a touch, revealing its glamour while the man dissolved into tears at his failed attempt to last. Dejun sighs, dusting off his hands as he turns to the door, eager to finish the day. Being an investigator is so much _work_.

The door swings open and closes with little noise, the only evidence Dejun had been in the room being the man’s uncontrollable tears through the heavy wood. They don’t call Dejun the ‘Maestro of Tears’ for no reason, known for reducing his victims to just that during interrogations. Dejun likes to think it’s proof of his work. Mark just calls him a sadist.

He’s been this way since the start, really, from his time in grandest Court in all of Teyvat—Fontaine—where Dejun grew up watching interrogators break criminals like children breaking china. His parents were freelance investigators who worked for the Adventurer’s Guild, and their work often took them far away from home. Sometimes, it got lonely. That was until Dejun found out how to climb the tree near the Courtroom’s largest window.

It was during one of these adventures that Dejun was found by Fontaine’s greatest interrogator, Zhang Yixing. An immigrant, much like Dejun, who hailed from the ports of Liyue Harbour, also like Dejun. He spoke of interrogation as if it was a business deal, a common mindset for Liyuean people. He taught Dejun the art of getting into someone’s head to get what he wants, knowing when to use force or evidence.

Dejun quickly fell in love with the art, following in his parent’s footsteps and becoming an investigator for the Adventurer’s Guild. He had loved Fontaine and its wondrous court, of course, and would prefer to work there instead, had it not been for a certain… event in the past.

Dejun isn’t fond of the memory, to say the least.

Dejun now wanders Teyvat alone, accepting commissions from the guild to take care of Teyvat and its troublesome citizens. Dejun has fun on the road, of course, but there’s a certain loneliness to travelling by oneself. He has few friends in the places he visits, with his reclusive nature. He and Mark go way back, from when Dejun helped him catch his first thief with the help of some excellent negotiating skills (Dejun) and some Dandelion Wine (Mark). Mark got Dejun his first big break to accept larger commissions, and Dejun solidified Mark’s value amidst the Knights’ ranks. Their relationship was a mutually beneficial one.

As Dejun heads out of the Knights of Favonious’s HQ, waving farewell to the guards on duty and catching the Knight’s Grandmaster at the entrance for a heartfelt thank you, he sighs, inhaling the fresh air of the night. Dejun stretches, satisfied with his work for the day as he glances at his watch. Just in time for dinner.

But just as Dejun starts towards Good Hunter for a meal, a sudden shout of his name stops Dejun in his tracks.

“Wait! Junnie! I forgot to give you this!” Mark yells, making Dejun freeze in place. He scowls at the nickname, not fond of being called anything other than his name. Nicknames hold too much fondness to them, and fondness doesn’t bode well in Dejun’s line of work. He’s got a whole lifetime of proof for that.

“I told you not to call me that,” Dejun complains, turning around with his hands on his hips as Mark stops, eyes widening. A sheepish expression flashes over his features.

“Sorry…” Mark mumbles, scratching the back of his head. It’s hard to believe this overgrown child is so intimidating on the battlefield, had Dejun not seen it with his own eyes. Mark Lee is quite the mystery.

“It’s fine,” Dejun sighs, crossing his arms. “Why’d you stop me?”

Mark perks up again, reaching into his messenger bag to pull out an envelope. “Oh, yes,” Mark says. “This came for you this morning. Sorry, I forgot.”

He hands it to Dejun, making sure to face the seal on the envelope to Dejun. Dejun flinches at the sudden action, taking a moment before he could recognize the symbol on the seal. A Geo symbol, indicating its Liyuean origins. Dejun takes the envelope and inspects the seal. He turns to Mark and gestures for his hunting knife, strapped on Mark’s waist.

“Can I?” Dejun asks. Mark looks at him for a moment, confused before realizing.

“Oh! Sorr—“

“You’re apologizing again,” Dejun reminds him gently.

Mark flushes. “Right,” he mumbles, fumbling for his hunter’s knife. He hands it to Dejun gingerly, who takes the blade to break the seal. As the envelope opens, the scent of Silk Flowers fills the air. Dejun freezes, reflexively raising his guard at the sudden scent. There’s only one person Dejun knows who loves the flower so much he’d send it in an envelope.

Dejun grumbles low in his throat as he takes out the letter to read.

_“Hey Junnie~_

_It’s me! Your favourite freelance acquirer of lost goods! How are you doing, baby boy ;)”_

Dejun scoffs. “Acquirer of lost goods, my ass,” he mumbles, continuing to skim the letter.

_“Anyway, I just sent you this letter to make sure you catch the Rite of Descension two days from when I expect this letter to arrive. You know it’s the biggest event of the year, and I know you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Xuxi says you’re in Mondstadt for a commission, though, which means you might miss the thing! How awful is that?!_

_But anyway, if you do decide to show up this year, come swing by Liuli Pavillion afterwards. I miss my dearest baby boy so much! We haven’t had time to catch up in forever, and I_ really _need your help with something. Surely you’d be happy to take up a commission for little old me?_

_Of course, there’s Mora involved. About one million should do, no? But isn’t the satisfaction of helping me what you’re really after, baby boy?_

_XOXO,_

_Hendery ;)_

_P.S. I hope you like the Silk Flower! You look pretty with them in your hair.”_

Dejun crumples the paper and throws it into the nearby fountain. Mark makes a strangled noise of surprise, startling Dejun as he realizes Mark had been hovering over his shoulder to read this entire time.

“You have a boyfriend?!” Mark exclaims, incredulous. Dejun’s cheeks flush red.

“Why are you surprised?!” Dejun squawks, indignant. “I’m very attractive, thank you very much!”

Mark’s eyebrows scrunch together. “No, you are! It’s just… um. I didn’t, uh, expect him to be so… ‘baby boy’?” Mark squeaks, trying to salvage himself. Dejun blanches.

“Mark,” Dejun states through gritted teeth, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Mark frowns, confused. “Your friends casually call you ‘baby boy’?”

Dejun sighs, screwing his eyes shut. Fuck Hendery. Fuck that fucking thief who takes every chance he gets to _ruin_ Dejun’s life. He’s a liar, a thief _and_ a shameless playboy, the holy trinity of people Dejun hates. Lucas is Dejun’s dear friend from the Guild, sure, but his judge of character is _horrendous_. Case in point: Hendery.

“Sounds intense,” Mark comments. Dejun flinches, not realizing he had said all of that out loud.

“So he’s like… your archnemesis?” Mark inquires. Dejun scowls.

“I don’t have an ‘archnemesis’,” Dejun argues. “Kunhang is just… a nuisance.”

Mark raises an eyebrow. “And you even know him by another name? You two are closer than I thought.”

Dejun pales. Fuck. He hadn’t meant to let Kunhang’s real name slip. Their relationship was strictly business, and business people use their official names. Xiaojun for Dejun, and Hendery for that conniving, thieving, lying and flirtatious little monster.

“He’s most definitely not my boyfriend,” Dejun settles on, not wanting to let more slip. Mark shrugs, not seeming to care about Dejun’s monstrous problem.

They continue in mildly tense silence, walking to Good Hunter for dinner on Mark to celebrate their commission completion. After they order and Dejun’s had enough time to unwind and forget about the letter, Mark breaks the silence.

“Are you gonna go to Liyue though?” Mark asks.

Dejun opens his mouth to say no, when his thoughts suddenly drift back to the letter. One million Mora for a dinner date with the Devil’s incarnation. The pros sadly outweigh the cons here.

Dejun sighs, defeated. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Lucas has been hounding on my ass to come this year anyway.”

Mark frowns. “Who’s Lucas?”

Dejun gives up.

Dejun could probably count the number of times he’s ever been to Liyue on one hand, and that would have to include the brief time he chased an Abyss Mage through the countryside. However, Liyue is exactly as he remembered it years ago, the same stuck up merchants who think of breaking tradition as a taboo of the highest offence mulling around the place.

That’s not to say it’s dull though. In preparation for the Rite of Descension, the city is decorated with lanterns and vibrant colours, all various shades of red and gold. Children run the streets of Liyue with their Rex Lapis toys, the spitting image of their god’s dragon form. The scent of Glaze Lilies graces the air, borderline intoxicating as Dejun passes by a group of noblewomen shopping nearby. He’d heard something about the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing having a fascination for Glaze Lilies, and that the man in charge of Liyue’s governance himself would be doing the ceremony this year.

He had arrived in Liyue late last night, checking into the Guild Hall’s spare room and conking out to get ready to meet his friend. Lucas sent him a flower ball and a note to offer it to Rex Lapis for a wish. Dejun had contemplated finding Lucas to give the thing back, not wanting to associate with Liyue for longer than necessary. If Hendery found him with it…

Dejun shudders. He can’t have Hendery mistaking the stupid thing for a _gift_. He’ll just go and make a wish before he swings by Liuli Pavillion. Cake.

Well. At least, it would be cake, if Dejun knew where the hell he’s supposed to make an offering at.

A gasp cuts Dejun out of his dilemma. “Dejunnie? Oh my god, you made it!” an overexcited voice of a literal puppy yells from across the city square, his grin palpable through his tone.

Dejun winces.

“I told you not to call me that in public,” Dejun sighs, putting his hands on his hips as he turns to face a barreling Lucas. He sees the giant’s grin before he sees Lucas himself. The claymore behind his back glints under the afternoon sunlight, refracting in the Geo vision on his upper arm. The band around his bulging bicep is barely holding itself and the vision together, somehow hanging on after all this time. 

Next thing Dejun knows, he’s wrapped up in the most bone-crushing hug in the history of bone-crushing hugs.

Dejun chokes, the air squeezed out of his lungs as begrudging fondness forces his arms to return the hug. Lucas squeezes harder at that, and Dejun thinks his bones are probably on the verge of cracking by now. Another suffocating (literally) second passes before Lucas finally lets go, dropping Dejun back to his feet.

“You and your weird obsession with using your business name,” Lucas shakes his head, patting Dejun’s shoulder. “We’re off duty, man! Loosen up!”

Dejun grumbles. “Fine,” he grunts. Absentmindedly, Dejun plays with the flower ball tied to his wrist, fiddling with the silk flowers around the ribbon. The action doesn’t go unnoticed.

Lucas’s returning grin is blinding. “Oh! You must be here to make a wish, right? I keep forgetting you’re not a local around here. Come on, I’ll take you to the statues,” Lucas offers, already taking Dejun’s free wrist and pulling him along. Dejun doesn’t admit it out loud, but the action is nice. It makes him feel normal, like Lucas is just an old friend showing him around Liyue Harbour. Lucas would probably argue that he _is_ , seeing as how he’s Dejun’s best friend. Dejun would argue otherwise. He hates attachment.

“Oh man, I’m so glad you picked this year to drop by,” Lucas rambles, gesturing to the center of the square. Dejun follows his gaze, finding a small crowd gathering around the central fountain.

“I heard the Tianquan himself is doing the ceremony this year,” Lucas says. “Coming out of the Jade Chamber for his first official event in nearly a decade! Taeyong never does any ceremonies, so it’s all very exciting.”

Dejun frowns. “Why this year?” Dejun wonders aloud. His parents may have been Liyuean, but Dejun was born and raised in Fontaine, way too far away to learn Liyue’s history and customs.

Lucas whirls around to him, confused. “Didn’t you know? It’s the Geo Archon’s 700th birthday today!” Lucas exclaims. Dejun’s eyebrows scrunch together.

“You assume that means anything to me,” Dejun points out, looking at their surroundings to observe the locals. “The last time I was here I was chasing an Abyss Mage through Dihua Marsh. You laughed at me when I face-planted into a tree.”

Lucas sighs at that, a dopey smile on his face. “Ah… good times, those were. We should take more commissions toge—“

Dejun skids to a stop, a particular figure catching his eyes.

Fuck. The Devil’s Advocate is here.

“Dejun?” Lucas asks, turning around again, confused. Dejun doesn’t register his question, too focused on death glaring at the man walking up to them. There’s a smug smirk on his stupid face, hair styled up and tousled in a way that makes him resemble a bad boy and someone grandmas would give a second helping to at the same time. Objectively, he’s aesthetically decent to look at.

Objectively, of course.

“Afternoon, baby boy,” Hendery greets, giving Dejun a two-finger salute as his cocky gaze slips to the flower ball on Dejun’s wrist. Dejun growls before he can say a thing.

“What do you want, Hendery,” Dejun glares, side-eyeing him. He’s about three or four centimetres over Xiaojun, like the bastard that he is. Dejun wants to kick the back of his knees and make the guy crumble _so bad_. Hendery scrunches up his nose in disgust.

“I told you to call me Dery or Guanheng, baby boy. Hendery’s much too stiff,” Hendery retorts. Dejun ignores him.

“Answer the question,” Dejun says, voice guarded. Hendery just shrugs.

“I’m just here to watch the Rite of Descension,” Hendery says nonchalantly. “You know, kill some time while I wait for you to swing by Liuli Pavillion tonight.”

Dejun’s glare hardens. “I never said I was going,” Dejun lies. Hendery raises an eyebrow.

“But why else would you come to Liyue? Xuxi has been inviting you for years, and this is the first time you showed up,” Hendery points out, and Dejun is at a loss for words. He glances at Lucas on the side, head swivelling back and forth like he’s watching an intense match of pongping.

Dejun grunts, giving up as he turns back to Hendery and crossing his arms. Oh, how he wants to wipe that stupid cocky grin off of Hendery’s face. The Electro vision hanging off of Hendery’s waist isn’t going to stop a good ol’ punch to the face, and neither is the sword on his other side.

“Anyway, I gotta blast now,” Hendery says, turning towards the crowd in the center of the square. “I’ll see you later?”

Dejun growls in return. “Behind bars, hopefully,” Dejun snaps. Hendery doesn’t so much as flinch, ignoring Dejun’s comment entirely as he disappears into the crowd as fast as he came.

Dejun despises that fucking guy so much, the absolute _nerve_ of Hendery is _so fucking astronomical_ Dejun’s going to—

“You two are adorable,” Lucas sighs. Dejun smacks him.

They head off to make a wish after, arriving at a nearby statue of the Geo Archon. Lucas instructs Dejun on how to burn the flower ball and scatter the ashes into the tray, thinking about his wish at the same time. Predictably, Dejun wishes to wipe that stupid grin off of Hendery’s face as permanently as possible.

The crowd around the center of the square has grown in the meantime, past the point of Dejun wanting to squeeze in to watch. Lucas pulls out his Geo vision and creates a Geo pillar for them to climb onto a nearby rooftop to watch the show instead. A nearby Millieth tries to chew them out for it, but his pathetic little pointing stick can’t reach them from this high up. He goes away after Dejun tosses him two Mora coins.

As soon as the sun starts to set, the crowd silences. The Millieth around the Square march to the center in a rhythm, boots cutting off all chatter as the largest group of guards approach from beyond the gates. A cloaked figure stands amidst them, a drab brown hood over their head. The cloak shifts slightly as the figure walks, and in a split second Dejun catches a Geo Vision peeking out from the figure’s neck, strapped onto an ochre-coloured choker. Dejun draws a breath. This must be the Tianquan.

The crowd immediately parts for the figure, letting him through as the Tianquan throws back his hood. His albino white hair flows in the wind, neatly styled into a double coma look. His cloak ruffles in the light breeze, patterns on it suddenly lighting up golden as the Tianquan steps onto the pedestal in front of the fountain. Swinging by his side is a beautifully crafted sword, golden design swirling from the tip of the blade all the way to the hilt, where the Tianquan draws the blade from.

Geo energy ripples through the air, glaring golden as it passes above the ground, before spinning rapidly. Five golden rocks appear out of thin air, whirling at top speed before the Tianquan gathers them towards him, smashing them together as the impact creates a rippling breeze. The winds blow away the Tianquan’s cloak, which floats away in the wind like a forgotten kite.

Looking up slowly, the Tianquan grins at the crowd.

“Welcome,” he begins. “To the Rite of Descension.”

The crowd goes wild.

Lucas sighs dreamily. “Taeyong really goes extra when he gets the chance,” Lucas mutters, excitement dancing in his eyes.

Dejun gapes, watching in mild awe as Taeyong weaves through the ceremony like water through a creek. He practically dances through the motions, tossing his sword into the air as he uses Geo to manipulate it. Taeyong himself looks nothing less than a God, dressed in gold, brown and white fabric that flows with every graceful turn of his limbs.

The Geo rocks dance like fireworks as Taeyong weaves them together to form Liyue’s symbol—the weighing scale. He turns around and flings the pieces towards the fountain, attaching them to the side with a satisfying click as the fountain lights up. Golden designs light up from the energy, swirling together to form a beautiful Glaze Lily on top of the fountain.

Taeyong’s sword drops back into his hand as the Glaze Lily blooms, revealing a giant ball of paper flowers. Taeyong poises in front of it, aiming the tip of his sword at the paper ball.

“We now offer thee all predictions of Liyue’s forthcoming economy, O mighty lord of Geo,” Taeyong announces, raising his sword and crossing his arm over his body in the process.

“Now, descend!”

With a swipe of his sword, the paper ball bursts open to reveal brilliant golden light. It blasts upwards and punches through the cloud. The crowd inhales at the action, all craning their necks upwards to watch the heavens split open. Dejun squints along with them, trying to make out the Geo Archon. A dragon swirls in the sky, peeking out of the golden light as it plunges towards the ground.

The crowd cheers, all calling for the Geo Archon as Rex Lapis descends, dragon body wrapping around the golden light as he spins to the ground.

Mere moments from the contact, however, something flashes out of the corner of Dejun’s eyes, resembling a small, rocky spear of sorts as it plunges through the dragon’s head, exiting out of the other side cleanly. The crowd gasps in shock.

Rex Lapis falls to the ground with a thundering crash. Taeyong barely reacts in time, summoning a large Geo barrier to shield himself and the people in the square from the falling dragon. Rex Lapis lands onto the fountain with a sickening crash, destroying the water fixture before going entirely limp.

Silence.

Dejun holds his breath as Taeyong approaches the Archon, taking one hesitant step after another. Shock is written all over his features as Taeyong kneels in front of the Geo Archon, closing his eyes as he kisses two fingers and presses them to the dragon’s forehead.

Rex Lapis, the oldest of the Seven Archons and Liyue’s beloved God of Contract was just assassinated.

“We need to go,” Lucas mutters, tugging on Dejun’s arm. Dejun turns to him, confused.

“Now!” Lucas hisses, pulling Dejun to his feet. Dejun complies, managing to take a grand total of one step before Taeyong suddenly stands up and swings around, gaze hard.

“Seal the exits, now!” Taeyong roars at the Millieth. “No one will get out of this city until we have a culprit!”

Dejun runs faster.

“Hey, you! Stop!” A Millieth yells, pointing at Dejun and Lucas. Dejun hesitates for a second, wanting to explain himself before Lucas grips his arm and tugs. Hard.

“We need to get out,” Lucas hisses. “They won’t believe us on our own.”

Dejun gulps, nodding along as his legs move again. Lucas turns to the nearest rooftop and holds out his hand, forming a small Geo platform between the rooftops. Lucas jumps into a nearby tree and swings himself onto the upper roof of the building they were on. He flips over the red railings and swings his legs back before running towards the other roof. At the last possible moment, he jumps from the green thatched tiles beneath his feet and onto the platform before hopping onto the other building, long legs extending like the giant fucking gap was nothing.

Dejun gapes at him like he’s crazy.

“I can’t do that, you little shit!” Dejun yells. “What am I, Discount Darknight Hero?!”

Lucas rolls his eyes at Dejun. “We don’t have time! Come on!”

Dejun sighs, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to muster the Adventurer in him. The Millieth gather in dozens below them, yelling at Lucas and Dejun to come down, and Dejun knows he has no other options. He needs to find an old contact. Someone he knows. Someone to testify for them.

Inhaling deeply, Dejun takes off.

In a much less acrobatic fashion than his friend, Dejun pulls himself onto the upper roof and makes as much of a run as he can. He jumps off with all the strength he can muster, trying his very best not to shriek like a little girl as Dejun lands onto the platform. An arrow flies past his ear, the unmistakable sight of Hydro magic floating behind it.

Fuck. A Hydro vision holder.

Dejun nearly stumbles off of his platform, resteadying just in time to jump again. Due to the lack of momentum, Dejun barely reaches the other roof, slipping off in the process. Lucas’s reflexes kick in, swinging up a Geo barrier between them and the attacker as he reaches forwards and grabs Dejun’s wrist before he can fall off.

With a heave, Lucas throws Dejun onto the roof behind him, skipping the next jump entirely as Dejun barely remembers to tuck himself into a roll to brace for impact. He turns back to Lucas to find him with his claymore drawn, locking weapons with their pursuing Hydro archer. Lucas grits his teeth and turns around to Dejun.

“Run!” Lucas yells. “Find Doyoung! He can vouch for you! He’s just down by the docks!”

Dejun pales. “But what about you?!” Dejun yells back. Lucas’s face contorts with effort as he pushes the Hydro archer back.

“Just go! Need I remind you who defeated fifteen Ruin Guards just three weeks ago?!” Lucas yells. The knot in Dejun’s stomach barely unravels, but he nods nonetheless. He can’t help Lucas anyway.

Dejun takes off, thankfully clear of giant gaps now that he’s reached the packed downtown of Liyue. Five Millieth guards chase behind him, yelling at Dejun while he jumps from rooftop to rooftop. Dejun doesn’t look back, praying Lucas will be fine.

He runs out of nearby roofs almost too quickly, reaching the main boulevard. Dejun curses under his breath. He can see the docks, just barely out of reach. If only he had a way to clear this jump—

_Bzzt!_

Dejun startles out of his stupor to narrowly dodge a bolt of Electro soaring over his head. For a moment, Dejun thought it belonged to another pursuer before he found out the true origins of the bolt.

Down in the boulevard are two Electro vision holders. One has a polearm in hand, a fierce and determined expression on his face, a stark contrast to his plump cheeks and baby face. He’s acrobatic, flipping and jumping around like a dandelion seed in the wind as Electro flows around him like a pair of wings.

Babyface swings his polearm at his opponent, pushing a blast of concentrated Electro energy into the guy’s chest. Dejun can’t make out his face from this angle, but the Electro vision hanging by his waist and purple-streaked hair give it all away.

Hendery.

The _idiot_.

Hendery tosses a shard of an Electro crystal behind Babyface, teleporting towards it as he twists his body upwards and swings. His sword comes into contact with Babyface’s left Electro wing, which explodes in contact as it extends out to shock Hendery. Hendery, seemingly anticipating it, ducks low and jabs from below through the exposed flank Babyface twists out of the way, swinging his other Electro wing at Hendery before the force of the explosion sends them apart.

Babyface attacks this time, forming a new Electro wing on his back as he charges forwards with blinding speed. Like a bouncing ball in a tight box, Babyface bounces from all angles at Hendery, swinging his polearm precisely. Hendery dodges them all with equally blinding speed, harnessing Babyface’s excess Electro into his own vision as his sword starts to glow.

With a shout, Hendery jams his sword into the ground, sending a massive shock wave through the air as it tangles with Babyface, who launches straight into the thick of the Electro web.

At that moment, Hendery’s Electro crystal flies towards Dejun, a by-product of the explosion. Dejun snaps to attention, knowing it’s his opportunity for escape. The Millieth chasing him are too occupied watching the fight, so he won't get a better chance than this.

Dejun glances around and grabs the nearest Geo item he can find—a floating chunk of Cor Lapis Liyueans use to decorate for the Rite of Descension—and chucks it at the crystal. The effect is instantaneous, Crystalize occurring as the space between Dejun and the next roof temporarily solidifies.

Dejun wastes no time, trying to learn from his earlier jump as he launches off the roof. As soon as his feet touch the Crystalized platform, Dejun jumps off again, conserving momentum as he throws a glance to his right.

Hendery is staring right back up at him, amazed and surprised from the elemental reaction to serve as his escape as Dejun spares one smirk at him. Babyface sneaks up behind Hendery and struggles against the Electro web before slamming his polearm into the back of Hendery’s head, effectively knocking him out.

Dejun lands on the other roof with a tuck roll, absorbing the centrifugal momentum and transferring it to his legs as he pushes off, launching into a sprint again. He ignores the fight on the boulevard as Dejun hops down onto a nearby balcony. He startles a lady inside, flashing her an apologetic smile as Dejun jumps down railing by railing.

He reaches the stairs by the time the Millieth reaches the docks. One of them spots him and yells at his comrades, who charge at Dejun with unrelenting vigour. Dejun grits his teeth and scans the docks. Come on… which one of these fuckers is ‘Doyoung’... 

Dejun’s eyes land on a tall man with a Geo vision on his belt loop, a catalyst floating next to him as the man flings a shard of Geo at a man running off of the pier. It collides and grabs the man back by the collar and right into the waiting arms of a Millieth.

Well then. He certainly looks scary enough to be Lucas’s powerful Liyuean associate.

Dejun jumps off of the wooden stairs and bursts into a run towards the man, a group of Millieth behind him. Gritting his teeth, Dejun opens his mouth and yells.

“Mr. Doyoung!” Dejun hollers, praying he guessed right. The man turns around, eyes sharp as a piece of Geo flies towards Dejun, stopping him in his tracks as the piece stops right in front of him, between his eyes. Dejun’s breath hitches, staring at Supposedly Doyoung beyond the Geo shard. His sharp features are striking, perfectly complementing Supposedly Doyoung’s death glare. He kind of looks like a bunny, Dejun notes.

Supposedly Doyoung opens his mouth to grill Dejun out, but survival instincts kick in and Dejun manages to get his voice working first.

“Lucas sent me! Said we needed someone to vouch for us!” Dejun yells, throwing his hands into the air to surrender. He’s no Vision holder. He can’t fight Supposedly Doyoung.

Supposedly Doyoung’s expression melts into a million emotions, from confusion to realization to recognition before settling on exasperation. The Geo shard in Dejun’s face shatters, disappearing into thin air as Supposedly Doyoung sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, resting his other hand on his hips.

“Sir?” A Millieth asks from behind Dejun, just as confused as he is. Supposedly Doyoung waves them off.

“Let him go, he’s not the culprit,” Supposedly Doyoung grumbles, walking towards Dejun. The Millieth frowns.

“But sir, we found him and his friend fleeing from the scene of the crime and—“ he begins. Supposedly Doyoung silences the guy with a glare. A slight scent of piss fills the air.

“That’s an order,” Supposedly Doyoung presses. The Millieth guards scamper off, all various degrees of terrified as Dejun regards Supposedly Doyoung with mild respect and awe. Supposedly Doyoung catches his stare and scowls.

“Where’s your idiot?” Supposedly Doyoung asks, and Dejun finds himself smiling against his better judgement. It seems they agree on Lucas’s terrible heat-of-the-moment decision-making skills.

“Fighting some… Hydro-using archer, last I saw him,” Dejun supplies, not wanting to get on Supposedly Doyoung’s bad side. Supposedly Doyoung pinches his nose bridge again.

“Jungwoo’s doing his vigilante shtick _again_?” Supposedly Doyoung mutters. “Taeyong’s gonna fucking hound my ass.”

As if on cue, someone slides into the conversation.

“Doyoung!” A voice yells, making Dejun whip his head towards him. He’s the Hydro archer from before, dragging a tied up Lucas along. Doyoung sighs again, and Dejun worries for the poor guy. He seems to be dealing with a lot.

“I told you to stop doing your vigilante shtick, Woo,” Doyoung calls, looking at Probably Jungwoo in exasperation. “How do you want me to explain this to Taeyong? That his mentee went rogue again? You’re already on probation.”

Jungwoo pouts. “The Yuheng told me I could help,” Jungwoo mumbles. “And I thought that if one of the Qixing gave me permission I could go…”

Doyoung sighs again. Seriously, this guy has a sighing problem or something.

“Yuta’s an agent of chaos and an enabler, Woo, you don’t ever take his words seriously,” Doyoung reprimands. “Who have you hurt this time?”

Jungwoo’s face turns red as he puffs out his chest in defiance. “This might actually be the culprit, and you’ve even got his accomplice here!” Jungwoo argues, gesturing at Dejun. “He’s a Geo vision user! Who tried to flee the scene! Just look at his guilty face!”

Lucas is pulled to face Doyoung. Dejun notes the lack of exertion on his face, realizing how Lucas got here. The little fucker let himself get caught. Fucker.

“That’s the head of the Liyue branch of the Adventurer’s Guild, Woo,” Doyoung deadpans. “And this is Xiaojun, top investigator of the Guild. They’re trusted allies of the Qixing.”

Jungwoo’s face falls. He opens his mouth to apologize when another pair of people swing by. Dejun’s eyes light up in recognition of Babyface with Hendery in tow, a nasty bruise on Hendery’s lower jaw. It makes him look rugged in a way that perfectly encapsulates his idiocy.

“Sir, I found this one trying to sneak out. He injured five Millieth on the way, too,” Babyface reports, tossing Hendery onto the ground in front of him. Dejun almost feels bad for feeling so happy Hendery got caught. _Almost_.

“Wait, that’s not— that’s just Dery—“ Lucas begins, trying to save his friend before Doyoung cuts him off with a glare. Lucas shuts his mouth immediately, knowing better than to argue with Doyoung. Dejun is really starting to like the guy.

“Well done, Shotaro,” Doyoung begins, addressing Babyface. “This one’s got street cred. He’s on probation from the Guild due to his recent shady commissions, so Lucas can’t testify to his character anymore. You say he injured guards on his way out?”

Shotaro nods. Doyoung’s lips tug into a grin as he turns to Dejun. Lucas splutters next to them, trying to come with a defence as Doyoung smiles at Dejun.

“Well then, investigator,” Doyoung begins. “Will you so graciously help us extract information and find our culprit? I’m sure the Qixing can reward you adequately for your help. Your reputation precedes you.”

Dejun freezes for a moment, considering the offer. He turns to Hendery, who’s staring at him in mild disbelief. He looks like an innocent man, just caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Dejun knows better. Hendery is a liar in every sense of the word. Dejun won’t lose this time.

A chance to potentially bust open Dejun’s number one nuisance and make him get the justice he deserves. Even if Hendery turns out to be innocent, Dejun’s been looking forward to this day for _far_ too long to consider an alternative. Just breaking Hendery feels like a dream in and of itself.

Oh, how sweet revenge would taste.

“Oh,” Dejun drawls, a delighted glint in his eyes. “I’d _love_ to.”

The door clicks close with a satisfying click, the blackout curtains fluttering in the air ripple as Dejun crosses the interrogation room and towards the table in the middle. He reaches up and flicks the Electro powered lamp on, casting a blinding white light over himself and his victim.

Oh, it feels _good_ to call Hendery that.

“Good evening, Wong Kunhang,” Dejun greets, punctuating his syllables as he glares at Hendery. Hendery looks up from his seat, a playful look on his face.

“Good evening, baby boy,” Hendery greets in return, a smirk on his lips. His hair glints under the lamplight, a shiny texture to the soft curls and Dejun briefly wonders if it’s soft enough to card his fingers through. Dejun’s cheeks dust pink. Fuck. He shouldn’t think that.

The bastard’s trying to flirt his way out again. It may have worked the last two times they’ve been in this situation, but Dejun won’t fail a third time.

“Let’s start with the basics,” Dejun says, ignoring Hendery as he straightens. He pulls out the clipboard Doyoung gave him earlier with all of the Qixing’s information on him. Dejun knows it all already, of course, with Lucas as their mutual friend and having spent too many Guild Gatherings in each others’ presence already. Still, a refresher is nice.

“You were born on September 28th, 1999, right here in Liyue Harbour, correct?” Dejun asks, raising an eyebrow at Hendery. Hendery scoffs, leaning back on his chair to balance on two legs as he puts his boots onto the table. Dejun resists the urge to punch him in the face for the disrespect.

“Your parents were thieves,” Dejun notes. “And so were their parents, and the parents of those parents. Thievery, deceit and trickery have been ingrained in you from a very young age. Thus, you turned to the life of crime.”

Hendery shrugs, nonchalant. “I wouldn’t call what I do illegal. I’m just an adventurer, baby boy. My whole family is. We just prefer, ah, more exciting commissions.”

Dejun resists rolling his eyes. “Like smuggling contraband Everflame Seeds into Liyue Harbour and raising a dangerous and volatile Pyrosvine that has blocked off a part of Liyue forever?”

Hendery rolls his eyes. “Yes, they were contraband, but my client didn’t plant them! He had very important uses for them, you know,” Hendery argues. Dejun scoffs.

“Like what?” Dejun asks. Hendery waves him off.

“A good adventurer never reveals his client’s secrets,” Hendery points out. Dejun shakes his head.

“Spoken like a true criminal.”

Hendery winks at him. Dejun wants to punch him.

“When you were fifteen, you stole five hundred thousand Mora from a travelling family on their way home to Fontaine. This was your first recorded arrest, tried on the court of the God of Justice herself. You were supposed to serve for three years, but you escaped from jail. Since then, I can venture a guess you’ve never been back,” Dejun continues. Hendery grins at that one, much to Dejun’s chagrin.

“Oh yeah, that’s a good one,” Hendery hums. “First time we met, baby boy. You were so cute, all flustered because I wasn’t cracking,” Hendery sighs. “Your mentor got me in the end though. Miss that guy. He was so cool.”

Dejun bites back a comment, trying not to get angry. Hendery was the very reason Yixing shipped Dejun off to the Guild. The very reason he was deemed ‘unfit for the harsh Fontaine courts’. He’s grown since then, gaining fame as the best investigator Teyvat’s ever seen. Fontaine now _invites_ him to their court, but Dejun is too bitter with Yixing to return. He won’t return until he puts Hendery behind bars for good.

“Four years later, you were caught on a boat going from Inazuma, where you had stolen fifteen Electro Visions from the Electro Archon herself. You destroyed sixteen Inazuman ships until your Visions fused into one extra potent one, the very one you’re using now, and managed to escape. In the end, you claimed the Vision was yours to begin with, and the Archon let you go,” Dejun rattles off, staring pointedly as the Vision strapped on Hendery’s waist. Hendery doesn’t even try to deny that one, crossing his arms.

“You were my interrogator then, weren’t you?” Hendery ponders out loud. “Got me to confess my crime but couldn’t arrest me in the end because the Archon was too young and scared of making an enemy this early.”

Dejun fights back the low growl in his throat.

“And now,” Dejun continues. “The assassination of the Geo Archon.”

Hendery’s face contorts at that one.

“I didn’t do that,” Hendery argues. “The Geo Archon was killed by a shard of Geo! I have an Electro Vision! How could I possibly assassinate him?”

Dejun scowls. “You could’ve just taken one of the stray pieces of Geo scattered around from the Tianquan’s performance.”

Hendery scoffs. “And what? Throw it?” Hendery counters. “News flash, I’m a mortal. I can’t kill a god.”

Sadly, Dejun knows this.

“You fought five Millieth Guards and tried to escape the city,” Dejun points out. “A guilty man’s behaviour.”

Hendery winces at that one. “They were closing the exits. I had to get out. I needed to get to—”

Hendery suddenly stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. Dejun raises an eyebrow.

“Get where?” Dejun asks. “A safe house? To wait out your crime?”

Hendery scowls. “No! No, it’s just… it’s complicated.”

Dejun scoffs, sliding onto the table as he crosses his arms. “Try me,” Dejun prompts. Hendery swallows thickly.

“It’s… it was what I asked you about. In the letter. To put it simply… my boyfriend got kidnapped,” Hendery begins.

Ah yes. The playboy _finally_ acknowledges his relationship status in Dejun’s presence. He was starting to think Lucas made the boyfriend up.

“Your boyfriend,” Dejun repeats. “A possible accomplice in all of your crimes.”

Hendery wrinkles his nose. “He’s more of a legit adventurer, but he helps me from time to time. He’s not— oh, nevermind,” Hendery grumbles, sitting up straight as he stares Dejun straight in the eye.

“Look,” Hendery sighs. “You need my help.”

Dejun scoffs at that. “Really?” Dejun asks, disbelieving. “ _I_ need your help.”

Hendery nods. “I didn’t kill Rex Lapis, and you guys clearly have no other suspects. The city is in lockdown, so the killer is still among us. The thing is, you can’t expect to catch the crook by interviewing everyone who was in the area, now can you?”

Dejun can’t argue with that point.

“You killed him,” Dejun tries, but even he recognizes a losing battle when he sees one. Fucker.

Hendery grins. “It takes a crook to catch a crook, baby boy. And I’m the only one who’s willing to help you. Setting up connections, getting you into exclusive events, getting to know people you’d never dream of talking with,” Hendery rattles off. “At a price, of course.”

Dejun growls low in his throat. He hates this. Hates this offer. Hates the implications of this offer.

“So in short, you want me to help you rescue your boyfriend,” Dejun summarizes. “And in return, you’ll help me catch the assassin with your superior connections.”

Hendery grins. “Bingo.”

Dejun hates this.

It’s his only choice.

Dejun sighs. “Who even kidnapped your boyfriend? Why do you need me?” Dejun asks, considering his pros and cons. Hendery purses his lips.

“Well… the Fatui took him, to start,” Hendery drawls, making Dejun freeze.

The Fatui.

The Snezhnayan religious/military-diplomatic envoys, set on taking over the Seven Nations. The Fatui, who hold powerful Delusions issued by their Archon, capable of murdering thousands in the blink of an eye.

Hendery _really_ chose the _right fucking people_ to piss off, didn’t he?

“I… we stole a Delusion,” Hendery continues, suddenly embarrassed. Dejun doesn’t unfreeze. A Delusion?! The Fatui’s superpowered version of a Vision?! They stole _what_?

“And now they want it back,” Hendery barrels on, taking advantage of Dejun’s freeze. “But they also want to, um, kill me. Kind of. I, well, I was hoping you could help me strike a deal with them instead? One where I _don’t_ lose my life?”

Dejun squeezes his eyes shut in exasperation. He must be nuts to agree to that.

“I’m an investigator,” Dejun points out. “Not a negotiator.”

Hendery shrugs. “You’re my best bet, nonetheless.”

There’s an odd emotion prickling in the pit of Dejun’s stomach. He blames it on the lack of dinner today. Alternatively, he just absolutely despises Hendery. He refuses to admit the actual emotion.

Dejun sighs, walking towards the door. He swings it open to find Doyoung on the other side, having listened into the whole thing through the window. Dejun gives him a look.

“He’s got a good point,” Doyoung points out. “And we couldn’t find any trace of Geo on him either.”

Dejun sighs, utterly defeated as he turns back to Hendery with a glare.

“Fine,” Dejun bites. “Let’s go rescue another fucking criminal.”

The Liyue Qixing, as Dejun has slowly learnt, are deadly efficient. A mere two hours after the half-assed interrogation, Doyoung had managed to get them clearance, permission to leave the city _and_ helped Hendery get his stuff back to bargain for his boyfriend’s life. He even managed to pack them a travelling lunch, like the absolute mom friend that he is.

Hendery, to his credit, does take the whole situation more seriously than Dejun expected. He doesn’t flirt for the entirety of those two hours, other than that tiny moment when he throws Dejun a wink on his way out of the interrogation room. He doesn’t even talk to Dejun for their journey to the Wangshu Inn, where the Fatui had agreed to meet.

It’s an unexpected side to him, Dejun notes. One he’s never seen before. As luck would have it, Hendery is… admittedly much more bearable when he’s not flirting. The silence is actually kind of nice.

“So,” Dejun asks, finally breaking the nice silence between them. He almost cringes at himself for striking up a conversation with Wong fucking Kunhang, the bane of his existence, but Dejun’s always secretly been an extrovert.

Hendery turns around, quirking up an eyebrow. “Yes?” Hendery asks. There’s the ghost of a playful smirk on his lips, but it’s less flirty and more pleasantly surprised. Dejun resists the urge to roll his eyes anyway.

“Tell me about your boyfriend,” Dejun tries, saying the first thing on his mind to break the silence. Hendery’s eyebrow raised even higher at that one.

“And you call _me_ the player?” Hendery hums, amused. Dejun’s cheeks dust pink as he realizes the implications of Hendery’s words. A low growl bubbles in the back of his throat, but just for once, Dejun tries to be civil.

“That’s— That’s not what I meant, you idiot!” Dejun stammers. “Like general information! Don’t I deserve to at least know who I’m rescuing?”

Hendery chuckles at that, threading his hands together behind his head as he stretches. They’re approaching the bridge outside of Wangshu Inn, the smell of Matsuke Rolls tickling Dejun’s nose even from the Inn’s perch atop a giant tree. He’s only been through the Inn a couple of times, but Dejun’s had fond memories of the place. One of the chefs who work at the inn is one of the few close friends Dejun has, and there’s nothing quite like Renjun’s Matsuke Rolls and sobering advice.

“His name is Yangyang, first of all,” Hendery starts, snapping Dejun out of his reminiscent daze. Dejun turns to him, confused for a moment before he realizes they’re talking about The Boyfriend.

“Is that a nickname?” Dejun asks. Hendery shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s his real name. He’s just cute like that,” Hendery says. There’s a trace of fondness in Hendery’s tone, but Dejun can’t quite place his finger on why it sounds so strained. His best guess is relationship drama, but Dejun doesn’t want to assume.

“Any personality traits…?” Dejun asks, trying to sound casual. The air is slowly growing thick with awkwardness as if Dejun had stepped on a mine when he brought up Hendery’s boyfriend.

Hendery purses his lips. “He’s adventurous,” Hendery tries. “The type to charge headfirst into a dangerous situation and try to get himself out later. And when someone jumps in to help him, he just ghosts them. You know, the whole idiot package.”

A voice inside of Dejun wants to yell ‘you’re one to talk’, but he’s somehow backed himself into a corner of a relationship therapist, and Dejun’s too prideful to back out now. He’s going to fix this goddamn relationship even if one of them is his public enemy number one.

“Sounds like you two got into a fight,” Dejun prods, suddenly careful of boundaries. He may hate Hendery with every fibre of his being, but Lucas told Dejun he wasn’t capable of not swearing out on Hendery for the entire trip, and there’s nothing Dejun loves more than proving his best friend wrong.

Hendery tosses his head from side to side. “You could call it that,” he says, with an air of awkwardness to his tone. Dejun quirks up an eyebrow.

“And you don’t seem like the type to talk about your problems, either,” Dejun observes. He’s _really_ trying his best not to swear right now. Maybe Lucas is right. He really isn’t capable of not swearing Hendery out.

Hendery scowls. “I talk!” Hendery argues. “He’s the one who swept it under the rug for the past year. It's not my fault Yangyang doesn’t want to bring it up.”

Dejun gives him an unimpressed look. “And did you bring it up?” Dejun inquires.

Hendery’s cheeks dust red. “Well,” he says sheepishly. “Not… exactly.”

Dejun sighs. Toddlers, the both of them. He regrets mentally committing to solving this relationship. Surely, it’s not too late to back out now? Teyvat is a big place, and Dejun doesn’t have to contact them after this ordeal.

They arrive at the Inn with a polite five minutes to spare, requesting a private room away from prying eyes. The innkeeper, a man around Dejun’s figure by the name of Moon Taeil, had asked them to _try_ and keep the negotiation civil. There’s an air of exhaustion around him as he says it, like Taeil’s had to throw one too many people out of his inn before. He does give them a room with a window to the side, and says to ‘take the fights outside’ if it comes to that.

Dejun sincerely hopes that, as the only person in the negotiations without a Vision or Delusion, it _doesn’t_ get to that.

The room noticeably chills the moment the Fatui representative walks in. Hendery and Dejun straighten up as three cloaked agents walk in, their Delusions hanging from their belt loop as they drag in a cloaked figure.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” a sultry feminine voice drawls, words punctuated by the sound of heels clicking on the floor as she walks in. Dejun sees her Electro Delusion before he sees the woman herself, a giant purple gem hanging on her right hip. The woman carries herself with a particular air of confidence, sauntering into the room as her sword floats in behind her. The red blade glints as Dejun, and he swallows out of nervousness.

“Number Six of the Fatui Harbingers,” Dejun starts reflexively. “Kang Seulgi. Pleasure to meet you.”

Seulgi smiles wickedly at him. She snaps her fingers, and the Fatui agents behind her rush to pull up a chair for Seulgi. Another one manhandles the cloaked figure towards them, sitting him down onto another chair before ripping off his hood.

Dejun doesn’t spare the captive a glance, entirely focused on keeping eye contact with Seulgi. If he so much as looks at the objective, she’ll know how to get into his head.

Hendery inhales sharply, nearly leaping out of his seat towards the captive. Dejun kicks him swiftly under the table, stopping Hendery from moving half an inch off of his chair as he pinches his arm. Hendery stifles a yelp of pain next to him, but behaves, thankfully.

“Let’s get straight to the point,” Dejun begins, knowing Hendery’s self-control can’t possibly last long enough. Seulgi smiles, pleased.

“A direct man,” she nods. “I like that. Well, shall we lay the initial terms of the deal?”  
Dejun nods. He gestures to the captive. “We just want him back, of course,” Dejun explains. He gestures for Hendery to bring up the Pyro Delusion the idiots stole, watching as Hendery obediently sets it onto the table. Dejun doesn’t spare it a glance, but he can practically feel the Delusion’s massive power humming in front of him. There’s a whisper in his head, as if coming from the thing itself. Calling for Dejun to touch it. To steal it. To—

No. He needs to focus.

“I believe this is the offending object that was stolen?” Dejun asks. Seulgi nods, evidently pleased with his cooperation. She leans over the table, resting her fingers together as her smiles turn saccharine sweet.

“Correct,” Seulgi responds. “But not enough.”

Dejun pinches Hendery in expectation of an outburst. Judging from Hendery’s stifled growl, he’s correct.

“We can’t let you go so easily,” Seulgi points out. “This man stole from the Fatui. Such an act would be punishable by death in Snezhnaya.”

Another pinch.

Dejun hums, nodding along. “However, we are not in Snezhnaya,” Dejun points out. “Liyue laws will not allow you to murder its native on Liyuean soil.”

Seulgi scoffs. “He is a fugitive. Even Liyue Harbour would understand this act of blatant disrespect,” Seulgi growls. Dejun remains composed, not a single emotion showing on his face.

“With all due respect,” Dejun says calmly. “But you seem to be quite out of the loop with Liyuean policies. So long as Hendery can pay a sum of Mora to his commissioner, the Qixing will never have a reason for his head.”

Seulgi cocks her head, suddenly smiling again. “Even if he killed Rex Lapis?”  
Another pinch. Hendery tried to swat Dejun’s hand this time, to no avail.

Dejun shrugs. “Such matters are still being investigated. A diplomatic force like the Fatui isn’t invited into Liyue’s personal affairs.”

Seulgi’s smile drops. Her patience is thinning as Seulgi stands up suddenly, slamming her hands onto the table and leaning impossibly close to Dejun. Dejun does not so much as blink, keeping his place precisely where Seulgi was sitting before. Closing the physical distance is a common intimidation technique. Dejun’s practically immune from it.

“The Fatui will not allow this offence to go unpunished,” Seulgi hisses. Dejun hums, gesturing to the Delusion, finally turning to meet her gaze again.

“Then it seems we have no deal,” Dejun says simply. Seulgi’s eyes narrow, hands resting near her Delusion. Dejun catches it out of his peripheral vision, moving the hand he has under the table with practiced ease to tap at Hendery’s Vision, sending him a secret tunnel. He mentally whispers an apology to Taeil. They tried to keep it civil.

“No deal indeed,” Seulgi says, an air of finality to her tone as she swings her arm around to grab her sword.

Dejun doesn’t get to retort. A giant blast of Anemo blasts from the side of the room, throwing Seulgi into the opposite wall. Dejun reacts immediately, ducking down as Electro blasts out from Hendery’s palms, striking down the nearest group of agents. The captive—Yangyang—jumps onto the table and swings his arm in a wide arc, turquoise Anemo energy knocking Seulgi over as she tries to stand up.

“Run!” Hendery yells, grabbing the Delusion off of the table and Dejun’s arm as he tugs them towards the window. Yangyang runs alongside them, turning around and blasting more Anemo to boost them out of the window and into the air. Dejun curses, hanging on for dear life as the whispers in his head get louder. The Pyro Delusion hums in Hendery’s hand, glowing red hot.

“You won’t escape!” Seulgi yells, drawing her sword as she charges forwards, unimaginable power from her Electro Delusion surging out of her body. Hendery grabs onto Yangyang’s arm and swings himself forwards, boosted when Yangyang gives him another wind blast. The winds have stabilized under Dejun and Yangyang’s feet, righting them while Hendery meets Seulgi sword to sword, Electro burning the air before them.

Seulgi growls, surging Electro energy behind her as missiles form. The launch forwards, targeting Hendery, Dejun and Yangyang alike.

“Watch out!” Yangyang yells, jumping in front of Deju as he pushes three fingers at the incoming missiles, disrupting them with Anemo. Swirl occurs immediately, electrifying the air even further as everyone jerks backwards from the reaction. In the heat of the moment, Dejun looks up at Yangyang, heart hammering from adrenaline as he gets his first proper look at the person whose life he just saved.

To put it simply, Yangyang was the most beautiful person Dejun has ever seen.

His hair is blowing in the wind, soft brown strands fluttering as his teal highlights reflect the moonlight. An Anemo Vision hangs on the side of his head, the green gem slotted into a silver handcrafted gallery that connects to a large silver barrette. His face is delicate, all soft features on a pretty face Dejun thinks angels would kill to have. His body is fit but skinny, a bit on the lean side as he twists in the air like a swan flexing its wings. He looks every bit like the moonlit angel Dejun had always dreamed he’d be saved by one day.

And he was taken.

Fuck.

“Yang! Catch!” Hendery yells from across the battlefield, hurtling the offending Pyro Delusion into the air. Seulgi catches a glimpse of it, shooting forwards to capture the Delusion as Yangyang rights himself in the wind. He shoots forwards with equal speed, managing to collide with Seulgi’s side as the Delusion hurtles through the air—

—and right into Dejun’s waiting arms.

The whispers grow into howls as they threaten to take over Dejun’s entire brain, seeping into his skin as his fingers make contact with the Pyro Delusion. A strangled gasp slips past his lips and Dejun thinks he’s going to die from the searing heat blasting through his skin right now. He faintly registers Yangyang’s gasp as a current of Anemo blasts at him, carrying the fire around Dejun into the air and spreading it. As the Pyro covers everything in view, Electro energy swirls over Hendery’s figure and blasts into the air, coming into contact with the Pyro and triggering Overload.

Overload. One of the deadliest of the elemental reactions.

The explosion that follows is imminent, a giant pillar of Pyro slamming into Seulgi and burning half of her face while the rest of the force sends Hendery, Dejun and Yangyang flying backwards. Yangyang twists in the air, summoning a giant flow of Anemo to carry their momentum towards Liyue Harbour as Dejun’s brain finally comes down from his Pyro-induced pain episode.

“Are you okay?” Hendery yells, twisting towards Dejun as he tears the Delusion out of Dejun’s hands, soothing the pain. Dejun feels tears collect at the corner of his eyes, the pain-numbing the sides of his body as he opens his mouth.

“What do you think, asshole?!” Dejun growls. Yangyang’s laughter rings through the air, bright and unrestricted and Dejun’s heart just goes _ka-PLUNK_ at the sound. He can’t take this.

“I can’t believe you bonded with the Delusion,” Yangyang sighs, high off of adrenaline and grinning from ear to ear. Dejun thinks his smile must take up at least 60% of his face. It’s just… so bright.

“A Delusion that can kill him,” Hendery points out. Yangyang waves him off.

“A Delusion nonetheless!” Yangyang exclaims, smiling brightly. “Isn’t that amazing!”

“It’s a stupid risk,” Hendery counters. “Xiaojun’s always gotten by fine without one.”

Yangyang rolls his eyes. “You need to live a little,” Yangyang mutters, a bitter lace to his words. Hendery’s eyes narrow at that one.

“And you need to consider the risks for once in your life!” Hendery explodes. “What were you thinking, stealing this thing in the first place?!”

Yangyang doesn’t respond to him, turning away as his winds continue to carry them back to Liyue Harbour. Dejun feels his neck stiffen from swivelling it back and forth between Hendery and Yangyang. This feels like a lover’s quarrel, Dejun thinks, but the worst kind. The kind that could spawn tensions so taut it could snap at any moment.

Dejun purses his lips, regarding the two boys in front of him. Yangyang embodies his vision in every way possible, an adventurous soul who seems to have no qualms about risks to himself as long as he gets the job done. Dejun’s heard something about Anemo users and their penchant for risking themselves at all costs to give others freedom.

On the other hand, seeing Hendery so suddenly worried and overprotective is… strange, to say the least. He’s got the rash, charismatic mask over this… oddly doting side. Dejun’s heard Electro Vision holders are like that, all with something to protect. If Dejun had to venture a guess, Hendery’s the one cleaning up after Yangyang’s messes.

The air is thick with tension like neither side has words left for one another. Dejun wonders if this is how it’s been for the past year or so. No matter how much he hates Hendery, or how little he knows about Yangyang, there’s a tug in the pit of Dejun’s stomach that makes him want to force them to just sit down, talk and then hopefully make out after.

Wow. That’s a weird thought.

“So, uh,” Dejun begins, trying to defuse the situation. “What are you guys gonna do once we get back?”

No one says anything.

“Yangyang?” Dejun tries. Yangyang doesn’t spare him a glance.

Dejun purses his lips. “Hendery?” He asks. Hendery shoots Yangyang a pointed glare before turning to Dejun, defeated. Not even a playful smirk. Yangyang truly does things to Hendery, Dejun notes.

“Please,” Hendery sighs. “Just call me Kunhang, if you hate nicknames so much. And I’ll be honouring my part of our deal. I’ve got an associate who can help you talk to the locals without being ignored because you’re a foreigner.”

Dejun purses his lips. Hendery—no, Kunhang—seems tired. Defeated, almost. Like he’s on the verge of giving up on his relationship. Dejun has known them both (properly) for a collective of one hour, but he’ll be damned if he lets pathetic excuses for human beings like this roam the world.

“Why don’t you two come with me?” Dejun offers, not knowing where this sudden amiability came from. Sure, Dejun’s an extrovert, but he’s so incredibly shy to the point of refusing the social interaction he always secretly craved.

Yangyang looks up at that point, staring at him like he’s crazy. “What?” Yangyang asks, incredulous. Dejun shrugs.

“It’s not like you two can leave the city anyway, with the whole lockdown,” Dejun points out. “And helping me with this automatically clears your name too. Hen—sorry, Kunhang doesn’t have, ah, the best reputation.”

Yangyang scoffs at that. Kunhang rolls his eyes.

“You could say that,” Yangyang mutters under his breath. Dejun smiles gently at them, the first comforting smile he’s had to wear in… a saddening length of time.

“So, what do you guys say?” Dejun offers.

Kunhang and Yangyang exchange a look. Dejun gulps. He hopes he hasn’t crossed a line.

“Well,” Kunhang begins slowly. “I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve had dinner with Kun ge.”

A smile tugs on the corner of Yangyang’s lips. “Oh god, he’s going to kill us if he finds out we’re arguing again.”

Kunhang’s lips turn playful again, and Dejun suddenly has the inexplicable urge to punch him. Reflexes, he supposes.

Dejun opens his mouth to respond when suddenly, a bright light appears out of the corner of his eyes. Dejun turns to it, eyes widening in shock as he catches a glimpse of the roof of the Adventurer’s Guild’s Liyue branch right in their path.

“Yangyang!” Dejun yells, gesturing wildly. Yangyang follows his gaze, jumping to his feet immediately as he tries to absorb back the Anemo energy to slow their momentum. He barely succeeds, managing to throw Kunhang off balance and onto the floor first before Dejun crashes into him. They roll for another moment before crashing into a nearby wall. Pain explodes on Dejun’s forehead, and he makes a mental note to _never_ take the Yangyang Air Express again.

The bastard, on the other hand, lands on the cobblestone street in front of them gently, cushioned by his Anemo winds and Dejun throws him a glare. Maybe he’s not quite an angel after all.

“You good?” Kunhang asks gently as Dejun is pulled back into reality. He’s currently tangled up in his worst enemy, his head resting on Kunhang’s stomach as one of Kunhang’s arms is wrapped around his torso, as if he grabbed Dejun during the crash and used himself as a human cushion.

The traitorous part of Dejun notes how comfortable the position is, warmth blooming in the pit of his chest. Before long, logic kicks back in, and Dejun immediately scampers off of Kunhang to dust himself up. His expression schools into a scowl.

“I’m fine,” Dejun says, back to his icy exterior. A flash of hurt colours Kunhang’s irises and Dejun feels bad, for some reason. Goddamnit. He’s grown soft. Curse Yangyang whatever-his-last-name-is and his giant smile.

Before Kunhang can say anything, they’re interrupted by a loud, boisterous giant running at them at top speed. Dejun barely has enough time to inhale a puff of air before Lucas picks them both up and squeezes, any previous air knocked out of Dejun’s lungs.

“You’re back!” Lucas yells, excited. “Oh man, I was so worried for you guys. The Fatui?! That’s a death wish!”

Kunhang grumbles, choking out a light ‘Yangyang’ before pushing Lucas off. Lucas’s eyes widen at the mention of Yangyang.

“You got Yangie back?! Wait, where is he?” Lucas yells. Dejun looks over his shoulder to see Yangyang freeze in the middle of the cobblestone street, halfway through sneaking away. Lucas whirls around to follow Dejun’s gaze and spots Yangyang, giant grin widening impossibly further. Yangyang’s expression turns panicked, like a cute sheep caught stealing extra food.

“Yangie!” Lucas yells, and Yangyang promptly bolts away. Dejun can’t help the chuckle that comes out of his throat.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” Kunhang sighs. Dejun turns to him with a quirk of his brow. Maybe this relationship isn’t beyond salvageable yet.

“Yeah,” Dejun can’t help but agree. “He really is.”

Three days after Rex Lapis’s death, Liyue’s entered a stalemate of sorts. The Qixing has let people come and leave the city now if they’ve gotten permission, meaning Dejun’s searching scope has only widened. Kunhang’s contact has been busy lately, so they haven’t been able to meet up yet. As a result, Dejun’s spent the last three days working towards a different goal.

_Slam._

Dejun groans, rubbing his back as he picks himself out of the wall, pain trickling down his spine like a waterfall. His Delusion hums from its spot on Dejun’s fingerless gloves, a quiet melody of rage as Pyro dances on top of it. Dejun forces his eyes open to glare at Yangyang, who’s floating three feet off of the air with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I didn’t think training was a synonym for beating up my ass,” Dejun groans, trying (and failing) to stand up. Yangyang giggles at him, slowly touching the ground again as he floats towards Dejun. Dejun purses his lips, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat. Yangyang is _taken_ , Dejun reminds himself. He’s a premium, high-grade, and indefectible piece of free real estate, and Dejun missed the move-in date by at least half a decade.

“You’re improving!” Yangyang points out, somehow still an overexcitable baby as he offers Dejun a hand. His hand is soft, Dejun notices, and just the right size to fit into his palm and—

Dejun mentally slaps himself.

“You just called me ‘as fast as an old Liyuean lady shopping for groceries’,” Dejun retorts, reverting to his natural sass to cover up the faint red tint on his cheeks. Yangyang waves him off.

“That’s an improvement!” Yangyang exclaims encouragingly. “Yesterday you were practically a sloth!”

Predictably, Yangyang gets smacked for that.

The thing is, Dejun hadn’t meant to fall in love. He’s always had a bad history with personal relationships, between absent parents, a mentor who shipped him off after one unsuccessful case and a lifetime of fleeting friendships due to Dejun’s penchant for travelling around. It’s easy to forget how loneliness feels like when he’s always thinking about where to go and what to do.

Love is a luxury is Dejun’s all-encompassing definition of life. He doesn’t need it, per se, having lived the last twenty-four years of life perfectly fine without love, thank you very much. It was always the plan to just roll on in life and never turn back to look love in the eye.

Yangyang threw a bit of a wrench in the plans. Dejun’s known him for a total of three days, the first of which was spent in nearly complete silence. He learns from Lucas that Yangyang’s just shy with strangers, but give him enough common ground and he’ll become a loud thorn in your side you’ll never get rid of.

Kunhang was the one to propose Yangyang and Dejun training together, since Pyro and Electro would be a recipe for disaster and Lucas is too busy with the Guild to offer Dejun much training. He even suggested they do commissions together, to help Dejun familiarize himself with using elemental magic in multiple settings. Yangyang had initially been a little frosty without the presence of a friend to open up, but Dejun had learnt to read Yangyang without the words. Half of it’s just Dejun’s training as an investigator. The other half?

Well. If he’s a little head over heels, then no one needs to know.

Take, for example, the current predicament. Dejun is sitting with Yangyang on the docks, watching the Liyueans go about their day with a popsicle in hand. Yangyang hasn’t said a word for the entire afternoon, only swinging his legs back and forth as he played with his melting popsicle by separating the droplets into little clumps and blowing them into shapes with Anemo. His lips are pursed, a telltale Yangyang habit of wanting to say something but not being able to. Dejun doesn’t pry. If he wants to start, he’ll do so himself.

“I’ve been meaning to get new earrings lately,” Dejun tries to strike up a conversation, breaking the silence. “My old ones fell off during the fight.”

Yangyang looks up, cocking his head as he stares at Dejun’s empty right earlobe. “Oh. I didn’t know. I thought you just wore one like a fashion statement,” Yangyang says. Dejun shrugs.

“It would make quite the statement,” Dejun agrees. “But honestly I’ve just been too lazy to go shopping for one. I’ve got to find out what to do with my Pyro Delusion first. The gaudy thing’s too small to fasten into a belt charm, but it’s too big to be a ring or something. So annoying.”

Yangyang chuckles lightly at that, but the tension on his face doesn’t dissipate.

“Hey, Junnie, can I… ask you something?” Yangyang asks after another beat or two of silence. Dejun turns to him with an encouraging hum, feigning ignorance to Yangyang’s nervous predicament. He doesn’t even comment on the nickname. Somehow, he doesn’t mind Yangyang using nicknames. ‘Junnie’ is cute, anyway.

“Shoot,” Dejun hums. He remembers Lucas pulling him aside last night with wiggling eyebrows, pointing out Dejun’s new soft streak. He’s like a changed man, all because a pretty smile swept him off of his feet. Literally, most of the time.

“Have you ever been in love?” Yangyang asks, and Dejun instantly knows where he’s taking this conversation.

Kunhang and Yangyang’s relationship problems have become a staple of Guild talk lately. Kunhang’s been out and about, finishing up his commissions while Yangyang stays glued to Dejun’s side. Lucas had very firmly spent a total of ten minutes talking to Dejun about being wary of trying to fix a relationship that’s gone downhill a long time ago, but Dejun had just brushed him off. He doesn’t know _what_ caused this sudden interest in Kunhang and Yangyang, but Dejun’s always been one to trust in gut feeling.

“I can’t say I have,” Dejun says, shrugging lightly. He’s not going to lie to Yangyang’s face. Yangyang bites his bottom lip.

“Then… do you have any idea what people do when they fall out of love?” Yangyang asks cautiously. Dejun rests a comforting palm onto Yangyang’s shoulder, patting him gently.

“Well,” Dejun sighs. “Most people break up. Some try to save the relationship. You know, start to do things together, talk it out, take breaks before trying again.”

Yangyang nods, understanding. Dejun debates telling him not to give up, but he can see the wear and tear on Yangyang from the relationship. He’s never met the guy before, but Lucas was very firm on telling Dejun anything and everything he knew about the two people Dejun’s trying to help.

“Do you still love him?” Dejun asks, hesitant. That’s always the biggest variable. You can’t save a loveless relationship, after all.

Yangyang doesn’t respond. Perhaps, that’s the loudest answer.

Two more painful days pass before Kunhang’s associate is finally free. They set up a business dinner at Liuli Pavillion, per Liyue customs. As a secret foodie, Dejun’s delighted to try out the famed restaurant whose waiting list is nearly three months, even if it means sitting through a painfully awkward couple for the first half of it while they wait for the man of the hour.

Thankfully, he’s distracted by the over influx of food to really let the tension settle. He’s good at that, ignoring and pushing his problems away. It’s what he’s been doing for nearly a decade, after all.

Yangyang and Kunhang are friendly, at least, today seeming to be one of their good days as the three strikes up an easy conversation about their favourite topic: food. Dejun learns that Yangyang’s a dragon in human form, eating chilli peppers straight from the stalk. Dejun and Hendery shared concerned looks, of course, worried for Yangyang’s stomach. Yangyang insists the Jueyun chillies are excellent for his elemental mastery, but Dejun doesn’t want to try it out for himself. He values his taste buds, thank you very much.

By the time they’ve arrived on the third main course of the day (Kunhang’s associate is paying, and the three of them have a big appetite), the man of the hour finally arrives.

“I see you’re milking me dry today,” a new figure chuckles, stepping into their private room while Yangyang and Dejun were preoccupied with arguing over whether white or red soup base is superior in hotpot. Kunhang’s the first to notice their guest’s arrival, shooting out of his seat and nearly tackling the coming man with a hug.

Dejun snaps out of his argument in time to catch a glimpse of their guest on his stumble backwards trying to catch Kunhang and a Yangyang sprinting at him at top speed. He’s a vision holder, Dejun notes, spying the glowing deep blue crystal placed neatly on his suit’s tie. Hydro. Dejun wonders if he can be relied on in a fight.

“Kun ge!” Kunhang and Yangyang cheer in unison, taking a collective effort to squeeze the life out of Most Likely Kun. Most Likely Kun makes a strangled noise at the back of his throat and Dejun resists the urge to laugh. He knows Most Likely Kun’s situation all too well, having been in it more than he can count.

“Alright, alright,” Kun swats, pushing the two clingy grown adults off of his body. Kunhang detaches, weirdly the more well behaved one, moving over to try to pull Yangyang off. Yangyang huffs, clinging on for longer as a weird streak of tension passes between them.

Kun turns to Dejun in the midst of it all, exasperation on his face as he gives Dejun a curt nod.

“Evening, Investigator,” Kun begins. “I’d apologize for my groupmates’ behaviour, but I see you’re acquainted.”

Dejun fights back a smile, giving Kun a curt nod in return. “Groupmate?” he asks, a curious lilt to his tone. He’s heard of Kunhang’s infamous group of bounty hunters, of course, a team called WayV who take on the guild’s highest level of commissions. The members themselves aren’t too well known, the most famous one being their biggest troublemaker, Kunhang. While Yangyang was already a contradiction to Dejun’s image of the group, Dejun can’t imagine someone as put together as Kun being a part of Kunhang’s crew of adventurers.

Kun smiles politely at him. “I should introduce myself,” Kun says, prying Yangyang off of him as he moves to the table and sits down on Dejun’s left. He extends a hand out cordially.

“My name is Qian Kun, and my day job is the representative of an organization named Wangsheng,” Kun introduces, gaze full of intent. “Adventuring is more of a hobby for me. A _personal_ one, even if I do lead a team myself. I’m sure you understand.”

Dejun nods. The secrecy makes sense, considering WayV’s rather questionable history of commissions.

“Xiao Dejun,” Dejun returns. “Investigator with the Adventurer’s Guild. You can call me Xiaojun.”

“It’s like watching a business deal,” Yangyang hisses next to Dejun, absolutely the opposite of discreet as he leans over to Kunhang. Kunhang bites back a giggle, and Dejun turns to glare at them out of reflex. Kun laughs.

“I see we both share the exasperation with my colleagues,” Kun notes. Dejun smiles back at him.

“I’ve had to work with less mature people on commissions before, believe it or not, so this is rather regular for me,” Dejun recounts. “But I’m not quite sure what the, ah, Wangsheng organization does.”

“Oh, Kun’s line of work definitely suits your job, Junnie! He knows all about handling delicate situations and secrets,” Yangyang interjects brightly. Dejun resists the reflex to protest the nickname, earning him a curious look from Kunhang.

Dejun raises an eyebrow. “Even ones pertaining to the murder of an Archon?”

Kunhang jumps in. “Kun’s quite good at dealing with dead people. It’s a big part of his job, after all,” Kunhang explains excitedly. Dejun tenses up. Surely, he’s not sitting next to a murderer, right? An assassin for hire? Kun certainly has the mannerism of a suave criminal with more manners than the last suave criminal Dejun’s met.

Kun rolls his eyes. “You make me sound like a killer for hire,” Kun chides. Yangyang and Kunhang brush him off in scary unison. Dejun looks between them, slightly terrified. Kun catches him out of the corner of his vision and rolls his eyes.

“I work for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, Xiaojun,” Kun sighs. “The children like to exaggerate. I don’t kill people for a living. I just facilitate funerals.”

Oh.

Oh, that makes more sense.

Kunhang and Yangyang burst into laughter at Dejun’s relief, cackling as Kun shakes his head, a fond kind of exasperation in his expression. Dejun wonders if this is a common occurrence, for Kunhang and Yangyang to go around making their leader sound like a cold-blooded murderer.

“In any case, let’s begin with the problem at hand: Rex Lapis’ murder,” Kun says, shifting the conversation with practiced ease. Dejun nods along.

“Yes,” Dejun agrees. “I’ve been told you know this city like the back of your hand, and thus can help give me a cover to interrogate the locals. Seeing as how keen of an eye the Qixing are keeping on everyone, the murderer is unlikely to have been able to slip out of their grasp.”

Kun nods. “I know some of the Qixing myself, and I can attest to that. Taeyong and Doyoung are deadly efficient with their work, and keeping everyone in town was certainly a wise choice.”

Dejun purses his lips. “Still, this is a whole city we have to search. I don’t think we’d have the time to interrogate everyone. Do you, perchance, have a guess as to who might’ve been the culprit?”

Kun bites his bottom lip, a minuscule action that could have gone unnoticed by anyone else but the keen, investigator eye. He seems to know something but seems to be withholding it. Curiosity eats at Dejun, but he decides to hold his tongue. Kun is a useful ally to have, so he won’t compromise their relationship just yet.

“Are you familiar with the Adepti, Xiaojun?” Kun asks. Dejun pauses, trying to scour his brain for anything about this ‘Adepti’. He hasn’t been in Liyue often, seeing as how it’s the operating ground for his mortal enemy who now sits across from him for dinner.

“I don’t think I am,” Dejun answers honestly. Kun nods, his shoulders sagging slightly. As if in relief, Dejun thinks.

“A long time ago, when our Archaic Lord Rex Lapis faced off against the other gods for control of the world, the Adepti had fought along with him. While their ranks used to number in the dozens, most have gone into seclusion. Nowadays, only four Adepti really stay around Liyue. Most Liyueans consider the age of the Adepti to have passed, since there hasn’t been any incident that would require the Adepti to come to our aid since the old god Oslai was sealed beneath Guyun Stone Forest,” Kun explains. He waves his hand in the air, a residue of Hydro magic bubbling at his fingertips before it clumps together to form a creature of some kind. It resembles a giant tentacle monster, Dejun thinks. Must be Oslai.

“Rex Lapis himself was an Adeptus, the most powerful one, in fact. But while they were once comrades, some of the Adepti have grown… bitter, throughout the years,” Kun says. Dejun frowns.

“Are you suggesting an Adeptus might’ve killed the Geo Archon?” Dejun asks. Kun purses his lips, shrugging lightly.

“Mere mortals cannot just kill a god. I’m just making a suggestion,” Kun clarifies. Dejun hums, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms as he slips into thought. To interrogate these ancient, powerful beings… Dejun can’t imagine all of the possible tension and history in Liyue’s history he might not be privy of.

“I don’t suggest we can just stroll up to these Adepti and interview them?” Dejun asks wryly. Kunhang snorts, finally breaking Kun and Dejun’s conversation.

“The last time someone accused an Adepti of a crime, she nearly destroyed Liyue before flying away to Juyeun Karst. No, I don’t think so,” Kunhang points out, mouth half-full with food. Dejun wrinkles his nose in disgust. It’s as the saying goes: No manners among thieves.

“This is where I believe I come in,” Kun interjects, gently taking control of the conversation again. “Whenever an Adepti passes, we used to hold a ceremony in the olden days, to honour their memory and wish them a safe passage to the Celestia. The Rite of Passing requires a variety of materials and items, most of which coming from shops run by Adepti and human merchants.”

Dejun nods along, understanding Kun’s plan. “So we’re going shopping,” Dejun summarizes. Dejun can see Yangyang open his mouth to make another joke, only for a hand made out of Hydro energy to slap over his mouth and muffling the sound. Kun nods, a gentle smile spreading on his face.

“Precisely,” Kun confirms while Yangyang makes muffled cries of protest. Dejun can’t help but laugh. The rest of the dinner continues without much affair. Dejun learns that Kun acts like a mother hen to Kunhang and Yangyang, getting made fun of in return. He’s the leader of WayV, the famed secret adventuring group Kunhang and Yangyang are also a part of. When Kun hears about them pissing off the Fatui and Dejun’s bonding with his new Pyro Delusion, he warns them about the Fatui surely coming back to retake their possession.

Dejun almost mourns when Kun announces he has to leave to take of business, already missing the presence of someone mature enough to not poke fun at him every other second. He’s got a teasing nature to him, evident from how easily Kun can strike back at Kunhang and Yangyang, but Dejun is new. They’ve still got bridges to cross before that.

Still, Dejun has a feeling he’ll be good friends with this Kun fellow.

Yangyang ends up running off on their way back to the Guild, a group of children nearby playing some kind of traditional Liyuean game catching his attention. Dejun had contemplated going back first and leaving Kunhang and Yangyang to enjoy their rare night together, but Kunhang had insisted he stay with them. There’s a certain desperation to the way he asks Dejun to stay, as if he really can’t handle Yangyang alone.

The game seems to be a dance circle of sorts, Dejun learns, one involving a giant mesh of bamboo sticks and complicated footwork that blurs together for Dejun. Yangyang seems to navigate it all with practiced ease, stepping in and out of empty space without tripping while his onlookers cheer. There’s a faint trail of Anemo around his figure, as if Yangyang’s enthusiasm had triggered his Vision to react.

Dejun turns to face Kunhang, wanting to ask if Yangyang’s normally this enthusiastic, only to find a wistful, pained expression instead. The faint orange glow of the lanterns above and around them cast a tint over Kunhang, prettily resting over his eyelashes that really shouldn’t be as attractive as they are. A slight flush rests over his high cheekbones, a remnant from the light alcohol they had earlier at dinner, dusting a pretty shade of pink on him that resembles the Silk Flowers Kunhang insists on sending up to Dejun’s room every morning. His lips are pursed, slightly chapped yet still a pretty shade of pink and for some reason, Dejun can’t help but imagine what it would—

Woah there.

That’s a train of thought Dejun’s _not_ going to pursue.

He’s staring at Yangyang dancing, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips in a way that resembles a sad male second lead in an old-time opera. His fingers fiddle with his Electro vision, purple trickles of elemental energy licking up the side of his arm.

It’s odd, Dejun thinks, this new dynamic between him and Kunhang. He’s still flirty, of course, always taking the opportunity to wink at Dejun or call him ‘baby boy’, but it’s as if Yangyang’s presence has suddenly made him sad. Wistful, in a way. Longing for something he lost a long time ago. Like a fractured relationship.

“Have you ever seen a relationship fall apart?” Kunhang asks Dejun, not a single edge of flirtiness in his tone. He seems… defeated. Dejun should be happy about this. Should revel in seeing his number one enemy fall apart. But instead… all he feels is sadness. As if it was _his_ relationship that’s falling apart. Then again, Dejun’s always been a secret romantic.

“When’s the last time you two went on a date?” Dejun asks, drawing up a mental checklist of breakup symptoms he’s seen from all the people he’s met on his travels. Kunhang chews on his bottom lip.

“About a month or two ago?” Kunhang lilts. “I think the last proper one was when we went to Sumeru for a commission and decided to hang around for a day or two.”

Dejun hums. “And the last unprompted date?” Dejun asks. “One that wasn’t just because you two were happily in the same place at the same time?”

Kunhang is silent.

Dejun winces, hand raising to squeeze Kunhang’s shoulder comfortingly. Mentally, he moves onto the next question.

“When’s the last time you two fucked?” Dejun asks, genuinely curious.

Kunhang chokes on air, and Dejun doesn’t even flinch. It’s a serious question, after all.

“We’re busy people,” Kunhang splutters, trying to wave Dejun off.

“Too busy to keep up an integral part of your relationship?” Dejun points out. Kunhang winces at that one.

“It’s not my fault he goes off galavanting on month-long expeditions,” Kunhang complains. “Every time I offer to come along he goes on a spiel about wanting to have things for himself and it’s not like I’m just going to overstep _that_ boundary.”

Dejun purses his lips, recalling Yangyang’s icy behaviour towards Kunhang’s worry-filled fussing on him after their scrape with the Fatui. They’re both in wrong, Dejun decides, all because neither is willing to talk to one another.

Dejun thinks he might be staring in the world’s most cliche rom-com.

“Maybe he’s just tired of you fussing over him? It’s important to give him space,” Dejun points out. Kunhang throws his arms into the air.

“I do! It’s not like I insist on tagging along to his commissions,” Kunhang sighs. Dejun shakes his head.

“I meant when you guys do things together,” Dejun points out. “Like earlier. You really didn’t have to push him off of Kun.”

Kunhang quiets, unable to retort. He looks like a kicked puppy having an earth-shattering revelation, and Dejun can’t help but feel his heartstrings tug for the guy who was meant to be his sworn enemy. The longer Dejun spends with Kunhang, the less hostility he seems to feel, and he’s not sure he likes that. It implies attachment. It implies Dejun enjoys Kunhang’s presence. It implies… 

No, that can’t be. He can’t like two people at the same time. That’s just not how relationships work.

Right?

Kun shows up at the Guild the next day, striking up a casual conversation with Lucas outside of the door as Dejun, Kunhang and Yangyang stumble downstairs to greet him. He’s oddly affectionate with Lucas, even more so than with Kunhang and Yangyang, as if the two have known each other for thousands of years.

“Kun ge!” Yangyang yells again, barrelling at Kun as if he didn’t just see him last night. Dejun snickers to himself as he watches Kun turn to Yangyang with exasperation, opening his arms to catch the younger boy as Yangyang latches onto Kun like a parasite.

“Yangyang,” Kun sighs. “We’re in public,” Kun hisses, gesturing at the stream of people on the street staring at them curiously.

“I don’t care,” Yangyang sings songs happily, and Dejun can’t help but imagine the poor bloke who dates this overgrown ball of affection. He turns to Kunhang reflexively, a questioning look on his face. Kunhang nods, getting the message. Yangyang does this a lot, it seems.

They manage to get going afterwards, waving goodbye to Lucas before setting out to start preparing for the Rite of Passing. Kun takes them to Chihu Rock, considered the epicentre of Liyuean commerce in the city, on a search for Noctilucous Jade. There’s apparently an old Liyuean proverb that goes “Noctilucous Jade shines brightest in the flames,” supposedly symbolizing heroes who rise up amidst the darkness. A fitting gem for the brave Adepti who conquered the gods of Liyue and raised Rex Lapis as the Geo archon.

“Welcome, one and all, to the exquisite Jade Mystery!” a nearby vendor proclaims, waving his arms in the air to attract customers. “Try your luck betting on Jade! Who knows, you just might hit it big!”

Dejun wrinkles his nose. “A lottery system?” he enquires out loud. “Sure, if you win it big on the first time, the jade is less expensive compared to the other vendors, but taking those chances loses more Mora than it saves you—”

Kun charges ahead, walking towards the Jade Mystery vendor. Dejun is left gaping after him while Kunhang and Yangyang cackle, dragging him along.

“Oh, hello there!” the vendor greets, a capitalist smile plastered on his face as he greets Kun. “Would you like to try your hand at betting on jade? They say Noctilucous Jade makes a fine gift for any little lady you may be courting, young man.”

Kun smiles at him with saccharine sweetness. “Thank you,” Kun says. “We just need one batch. Radiant grade, type B and of Nephrite origins, thank you.”

The vendor recoils as Dejun’s face morphs into confusion. “Type B and of Ne-what origins?” Dejun wonders aloud. He looks to Kunhang, wondering if he’s the only one confused. Kunhang seems to read the expression instantly, shaking his head. It seems to just be Kun talk then.

“Nephrite origins,” Kun affirms. “The kind that glows the brightest when burnt. Surely you must carry a batch?” he asks, turning to the vendor. The vendor pales a few shades, suddenly nervous as he waves his hand in the air and scratches the back of his head.

“O-of course! However, that is not the nature of the Jade Mystery, fine gentlemen! W-we will only provide to you the batch you’ve chosen!” the vendor stammers. Kun scowls, crossing his arms.

“We cannot simply take a lower quality batch,” Kun says, firm in his stance. Dejun whips his head between the vendor and Kun, suddenly fearful if Kun is about to bust out some ninja moves and smack the guy upside the head.

“But then what would become of the Jade Mystery!” the vendor argues. “I have a business to run, and you certainly seem like a learned man! Surely you’ve learnt a bit of economics! I’ll be ruined!”

Kun opens his mouth to speak, about to interject again when suddenly Kunhang clears his throat and pinches Dejun’s elbow. Dejun stifles a yelp of pain, turning to glare daggers at him, ready to murder. Kunhang not-so-discreetly jerks his head at the vendor, telling Dejun to go defuse the situation. Dejun glares at him again for good measure, before taking a deep breath and trying to plaster a smile onto his face.

“Now, now, gentlemen, I’m sure we can find a civil agreement,” Dejun tries. “It’s just jade.”

Kun rolls his eyes. “It’s not ‘just jade’, Xiaojun, it’s jade we’ll use for the Rite of Passing. Our Archaic Lord deserves nothing less but the highest grade of jade. Surely you can understand this, my fellow businessman,” Kun says, pointing his words at the merchant. Dejun slowly realizes why Kun’s acting so prickly. He’s drawing out an honest answer.

The vendor’s eyes turn sad. “Ah yes, our beloved Rex Lapis. I owe my entire business to the Archon and his careful watch over Liyue. Yes, yes he indeed deserves nothing but the best jade the Jade Mystery can offer,” the vendor muses. Kun throws Dejun a look of pleasant surprise. It seems even he did not expect this development.

“So you’ll give it to us?” Kunhang pipes up, cocking his head in confusion. The vendor wrinkles his nose.

“No, I cannot just… _give_ you the jade. There is honour in business, after all,” the vendor argues. Kun looks like he’s on the verge of interjecting again, so Dejun jumps in.

“What if we could burn a part of the jade!” Dejun hurriedly suggests, turning to Kun. “You said the best jade glows the brightest in the flames, after all. And we can just take small samples, just enough to see!”

Kun nods, clearly satisfied with the solution before turning to the vendor.

“Perhaps… I can allow you three samples from each of the jade,” the vendor decides. “So you may investigate which one is most to your liking. And then I will sell the jade for you at half price. Only fitting for Rex Lapis, after all.”

Dejun smiles. “Then that’s decided.”

The vendor slices them the jade, barely thicker than a sheet of paper and barely bigger than Dejun’s palm, but it’s the biggest he’s willing to give. Kun summons up a water bubble, held up in the air through Hydro Magic and sucking up the three jade pieces in it. He then turns to Dejun, about to ask something before frowning.

“Where’s your Pyro Vision?” Kun asks. They’ve decided to pretend it’s a Vision, lest news of Dejun’s new possession reaches curious ears. Dejun cocks his head, confused for a moment before he realized he had forgotten the damn thing back at the Guild and—

“Here,” Yangyang interjects, pulling out a pair of intricate golden earrings from his jacket pocket. Dejun turns to him, even more confused before he sees the familiar red glint of his Pyro delusion glowing from one of them, his mouth falling open into a soft ‘O’.

“I… I thought I left it on my bedside yesterday? Before we went out?” Dejun asks, confused. Yangyang scratches the back of his head.

“One of the adventurers I, uh, saw come through the guild to find commissions makes jewelry and well… you’re always complaining about how much of a hassle trying to move with the gem on your waist is, so I just thought…” Yangyang trails off, a shy, sheepish look on his face. Dejun freezes, his heart skipping a beat as he stares at Yangyang’s outstretched hand.

Yangyang made his Pyro Delusion into earrings. Golden ones, at that. He had somehow remembered the throwaway comments Dejun made almost a week ago, decided to do something for him and actually solved all of the little qualms he’s had due to pure laziness for the past week. He _cared_ enough to do all of that.  
Somewhere in Dejun’s chest, fondness threatens to take over.

Kun clears his throat, ever the businessman, to snap them back to attention. He gestures to the jade, and Dejun suddenly remembers the whole point of the thing. He scrambles over, shyly putting on his earrings as he feels Pyro energy rippling down his arm and travelling to Dejun’s fingertips. Flames burst from them, dancing in the morning sunlight as he holds it under the water. At the presence of the heat, the pieces of jade start to glisten, shining like a lantern from under the water.

“A little more,” Kun urges. Dejun bites his bottom lip. He hasn’t had much practice controlling small flames outside of tiny sparks. Still, with the encouraging look Kun’s giving him, Dejun has to at least try.

Taking a deep breath, Dejun tries to channel the slightest bit more Pyro into his fingers, heating the bubble. It works for a moment, the teal piece of jade glowing the brightest. Dejun accidentally gets excited at the prospects of the plan working, losing his control on the Pyro for a split second, and everything goes wrong.

The fire bursts out of his palms like a bonfire gone wild, spiking into the air. Kun reacts in split seconds, spreading out his Hydro bubble to force the fire to funnel upwards. He slides backwards too, leaving a perfect empty slot for Yangyang to flinch and slide into, forcing the fire even further upwards with his Anemo. It reaches an alarming height, about to be dangerous as it continues to linger and Dejun is on the verge of panic when suddenly—

“Calm down,” Kunhang whispers gently, resting his hands on Dejun’s shoulder. He’s close, close enough that Dejun can practically feel his breath ghosting along his neck and Dejun thinks he might actually combust if they continue this. Out of reflex, Dejun looks at Yangyang, who’s staring at them with a curious gaze, a slight pang of disappointment in his eyes. Surely he can’t be—

“Junnie, it’s rising again,” Kunhang warns, snapping Dejun out of his daze. Dejun blinks, recomposing himself as he tries to steady his breathing, returning to stability. The fire dissipates, no longer a danger as the red gem hanging from his ears finally returns to normal.

The entire square is silent.

Reality hits Dejun like a ton of bricks, snapping him forwards and away from Kunhang. There’s a pang of hurt in Kunhang’s eyes again as Dejun’s gaze hardens reflexively. The plaza gapes at him in mild fear, whispers growing in the crowd and Dejun can feel panic rising in his chest again. His brain whirs at a million miles per hour, ears picking up conversations that aren’t there as he’s taken back to—

_“A Liyuean trying to become an interrogator in Fontaine? But he’s nothing more than a kid!”_

_“You’ll be torn up to shreds before you know it.”_

_“Liyueans have no concept of what life is really like here in Fontaine. You’ll just end up insulting everyone.”_

_“Trying to prove yourself, kid? Just go home. You may have grown up here, but you know nothing about Fontaine.”_

Dejun’s breath hitches in his throat. Not this again.

A figure approaches him, and all Dejun can think is how much he resembles the mentor Dejun once had. Once called family. Once let into his life.

_“You’ll never be something in the world of the law.”_

Once trusted enough to be close with.

The figure opens his mouth and Dejun has half a mind to argue and yell and—

“It’s okay,” Kun’s voice comes instead, gently prodding Dejun out of his own head. “It’s okay. You’re new to this. Everyone makes mistakes.”

 _Mistakes can kill_.

“It’s just a small accident,” Kun continues. “It’s not the end of the world.”

_You’ll cast me out again. Undo everything I’ve ever done. I never should’ve opened up, affection only makes people weak._

“We’ll be here to take care of your mistakes,” Kun says gently. “It’s okay to slip, Dejun. No one’s going to jump you this time.”

 _They will_.

“They won’t.”

The world returns to normal. Vaguely, Dejun wonders how Kun knows exactly what he’s thinking.

After a few more minutes to calm down, Dejun’s regained enough composure to finish up their transaction and head to the next item on the checklist. Kun ends up just giving Kunhang and Yangyang notes and directions to the next place, apparently a flower shop of some kind to buy flowers for perfume making. Rex Lapis is a perfume kind of guy, as it would turn out.

In the meantime, Kun offers to take Dejun out to eat, swinging by an old friend’s restaurant.

“If Chenle’s cooking, I’d take the Wanmin restaurant over Liuli Pavillion or Xinyue Kiosk any day,” Kun tells him, promising to treat. Dejun decides to trust him, trailing after Kun as they duck into a small street off of the main street. The fragrant aroma of boiled fish stew wafts in the air, catching any who dare slip into this nook of Liyue. Dejun can’t help but perk up, a soft rumbling from his stomach echoing in the air. Kun chuckles at him.

“I see Chenle’s famous boiled fish stew has already won you over, and you haven’t even tasted the thing,” Kun teases. Dejun smiles in return, brushing him off. Normally. Dejun would be apprehensive of people like Kun. Too amicable, too friendly, too kind. But for some reason, Kun just… feels different. Trustable. Like he would drop everything and kill six Oceanids for Dejun if he needs it.

“Lele!” A bright voice yells from behind Dejun, startling him as Dejun whirls around to see a tall, lanky teenager half a head taller than him charge down the street. Dejun flinches, instinctively dodging out of the way for the curious teenager to charge past. There’s some kind of paper talisman hanging from his forehead, and if Dejun’s rustic old Liyuean is any good, he can barely make out the phrase ‘a second life’ on it.

There’s an odd grayish tint to the teenager’s skin as if he wasn’t fully alive. His clothes certainly look older, nothing like the modern sleek overcoats and traditional Cheongsam the rest of the city wears. An Anemo Vision hangs on the end of the teenager’s long, oversized coat glints in the air, the winds in the street picking up as if aiding the teenager in his sprint over to a quaint little shop in the street.

The Wanmin Restaurant is a shy, almost drab-looking restaurant in this little corner of Liyue from afar, but as Dejun approaches, he finds it nothing short of vibrant. Loud chatter echoed from inside of the restaurant, a chaotic wall of food scent smacking into Dejun like a fluffy pillow. The air is amicable, nothing quite like Liuli Pavillion from last night. No stuffy, formal tension from all of the rich guests. Just a couple of locals in a cramped restaurant, all roaring for seconds.

“Sungie!” a loud, squeaky voice echoes from what Dejun assumes to be the kitchen, open and on display for all of the guests to watch. He turns towards the source of the voice, finding yet another tall teenager who’s flipping a giant wok of noodles and grinning at the ash-skinned teen Dejun had dodged earlier.

The two collide in a hug, the chef teen tossing his wok’s contents onto a nearby plate before returning the hug. They look like the best of friends, as if neither had known a day without the other. The restaurant pays them no mind, as if the ash-skinned teen’s visit was nothing out of place for them.

Kun chuckles from beside Dejun, guiding him to a nearby table as he waves at a nearby waiter. Dejun sighs, heart warm just from the atmosphere alone.

“That’s Chenle,” Kun explains, pointing to the chef. “The best chef in all of Liyue. And the one next to him is Jisung, the receptionist from Bubu Pharmacy. A long time ago, back in the Archon Wars, Jisung used to fight alongside the Adepti, until he passed on. Rex Lapis revived him out of gratitude for his service, but Jisung’s always had a hard time adjusting to modern life as a zombie. Chenle’s been kind to him.”

Dejun turns to Chenle, watching as he tosses Jisung a stray Shrimp Tail from his wok as they start to chatter. Dejun’s heartstrings tug, a sudden feeling of loneliness washing over him. It’s been so long since he’s had good friends. The closest thing he really could find was Renjun from the Wangshu Inn and his homemade Matsuke Rolls, or Mark from Mondstadt, with all of his excited ramblings at any hour of the day. But even then, Dejun’s inner insistence on leaving before close attachments can be made had stopped him from truly connecting with them.

Kun, ever the observant one, catches Dejun’s wistful look. “If I introduced you to Chenle as a friend of mine, would that be okay?” Kun asks, careful of Dejun’s boundaries. Dejun hesitates, pondering for a moment if this older gentleman who he’s known for less than 24 hours could really be considered his friend. He thinks of Mark and his encouraging enthusiasm, of Renjun and his sobering advice, of Lucas and his insistence on making sure Dejun doesn’t die alone when his time comes, and then of Kun, and his caring, observant nature. Dejun smiles.

“Yeah,” he decides. “I’d like that.”

Chenle comes out to greet them personally after a while, practically shoving all of the work to his assistants and dragging Jisung along the moment he spotted Kun in the crowd. They pull up two chairs to Dejun and Kun’s table, which is already starting to fill with food. He discovers that Jisung is a quieter soul in comparison to his loud, rambunctious friend, but they get along like a house on fire. Kun had told the kids about Dejun’s status as a world adventurer and investigator, and their mouths had promptly fallen open in shock and awe.

“So you travel the world?!” Chenle exclaims, a childlike glint in his eyes. Dejun can’t believe this child is actually a teenager.

“Kind of,” Dejun says sheepishly. “I go where my commissions take me, and wherever I end up, I’ll keep taking commissions from there.”

“But doesn’t it get lonely?” Jisung inquires. “Having no place to call home? Don’t you miss your hometown?”

Dejun hesitates, trying not to think about Fontaine again. The place that never quite felt like home.

“Home isn’t always a physical place,” Dejun tries to brush off the question. “Sometimes it’s a person or a feeling. Just because my parents came from Liyue doesn’t mean I feel connected to it, if you know what I mean.”

Chenle frowns, cocking his head to the side in confusion while an understanding look passes over Jisung’s eyes. In a way, they’re similar, both losing a place they once called home. The difference is, Jisung found his home again, while Dejun's just a wandering adventurer.

“Well, you’re always welcome here at the Wanmin Restaurant!” Chenle pipes up. “Kun and his crew drops by here all the time, so I’ll even let you use their discount!”

Dejun recoils, shocked by the sudden offer. He turns to Kun, a spluttered denial on the tip of his tongue.

“I–I don’t want to impose. You guys clearly have a special thing going on and I—” Dejun begins, stammering his way through a sentence when the door suddenly slams open, and three loud boys pour from behind it. Dejun flinches, turning towards the door to see Lucas, Kunhang and Yangyang stumble in, laughing loudly as they yell their greetings to Chenle.

They end up connecting two tables and ordering an extra-large helping of Chenle’s biggest dishes. Chenle ends up having to go back to cooking pretty soon, and Jisung leaves with him. Lucas, Kunhang and Yangyang fill up the empty spot with practiced ease, noisily yet happily taking care of all of the food.

Dejun finds himself relaxing into the group dynamic, discovering that Kun and Lucas go way back, apparently. He jokes and banters with Kunhang and Yangyang, playing off of them easily even when they tease Kun for some old joke he only grasps slightly. He lets Lucas swing an arm around his shoulder when the giant starts to get drunk, joining in on the loud rounds of toast with the rest of the restaurant as the hour gets late. Kun leads Dejun through the motions of friendship with a steady hand, always the first to interject if he finds one of the others getting too direct with their questions and stories.

Somewhere along the way, Dejun abandons the life philosophy he’s lived with for so long, wrapped up in the happy feeling of being surrounded by people he can call friends. The night grows late by the time they all stumble back to the Guild, barely sober enough and Dejun can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he can consider Liyue Harbour home after years of endless wandering.

(The answer is yes.)

“So let me get this straight,” Dejun huffs, waving his arms in front of him like dispelling a puff of smoke. He nearly smacks Yangyang and actually smacks Kunhang’s shoulder, earning an indignant yelp from the latter. Kun isn’t fazed, still leisurely sipping on his tea.

“You,” Dejun says, gesturing to Kun. “Need me to go retrieve something called the Cleansing Bell from an old friend of yours you refuse to meet for… unspecified reasons.”

“You,” Dejun continues, jabbing a finger at Kunhang. “ _Are_ the unspecified reason, namely because this supposed old friend is pissed at you for stealing a Pyro Delusion when he told you not to.”

“And you,” Dejun barrels on, turning to Yangyang, who’s suddenly freezing at the sudden attention. Dejun pauses, trying to remember why he turned to Yangyang in the first place. He hasn’t anything to do with this story.

“Have a caffeine addiction,” Dejun decides on, gesturing at the small tower of cups next to him. Yangyang sticks his tongue out at Dejun as Kun snorts in disbelief.

“I still don’t see why you can’t come with us to meet this old friend?” Dejun asks, still confused. Kun purses his lips, pondering over his words.

“It’s a delicate situation,” Kun says for the millionth time. “I just simply can’t face Ten right now for reasons I won’t—”

“He told me to steal the Delusion just to spite Ten because it gives him a reason to talk to Ten outside of work, but now that I’ve pissed off the Fatui, Ten’s only going to chew him out,” Kunhang deadpans, evidently fed up with all of the tiptoeing as he throws a nut into his mouth. Kun visibly reddens, burying his face into his hands and dejun can’t help but raise a judgemental eyebrow. He had thought Kun to be well put together, but he supposes gay panic doesn’t care about one’s reputation.

“Kunhang!” Kun chides, to which Kunhang rolls his eyes.

“Sorry,” Kunhang says with no weight to his words. “Outside of our _personal hobby_.”

Kun smacks him. Dejun stifles a cackle.

“Ten just confuses me,” Kun bemoans, dropping his head onto the table. “One moment he’s all business and formal with me, and the next he’s, like, flirty and nice and… and…”

“Hot,” Yangyang supplies, tossing a nut into Kunhang’s open mouth. It hits his front teeth and bounces out, making both parties giggle.

“Yes! Wait, no—” Kun stammers, trying to regain control of the situation. Dejun almost feels bad for the guy. He knows the feeling all too well.

“It’s okay, I get your point,” Dejun reassures him. Kun gives him a thankful smile, one that only tired preschool teachers would give to their favourite students.

“Please,” Kun begs. “You can even take Yangyang. Ten loves Yangyang. Won’t shut up about Yangyang when he thinks no one’s listening. Just… don’t mention the Delusion. Please.”

“Kun, I’m literally wearing it,” Dejun points out, gesturing to his earring. Kun looks up, fully contemplating stealing it, if his gaze is any indication, before settling on another heavy sigh.

“You’ll need it for Ten’s whole thing,” Kun dismisses mysteriously, getting up and exiting the Guild as Dejun is left with more questions than answers. Yangyang, thankfully, ends up agreeing to come with Dejun, even if he refuses to answer his questions.

They set off to Yujing Terrace, where Kun says Ten hangs around often. He doesn’t even specify what this Ten fellow looks like, but if he adores Yangyang as much as Kun makes him out to, they shouldn’t have a problem.

Yujing Terrace is decked out in lanterns, a faint scent of glaze lilies wafting in the air from the perfume intended for the Rite of Passing. Noctilucous Jade decorates the inner ring of the terrace, winding up the fountain Dejun distinctly remembers Rex Lapis dying on just ten days ago. It’s been fixed up, sure, but there’s an odd kind of sadness that radiates from it. It most likely comes from the crowd around it, who mill around with a certain kind of sadness as they regard the fountain.

Amidst all of the funeral preparations, Dejun’s come up with no leads, all of the human vendors they’ve met all sharing the same sadness of losing their beloved god. Kun had started with his idea of the Adepti being responsible, but the more Dejun asks about them, the more Kun starts to try to convince him it’s not the Adepti. Kunhang and Yangyang have no clues or ideas for the whole thing, surprisingly calm despite their fallen god. If Dejun didn’t know their alibis so well, he might’ve even suspected them.

There’s a serene kind of silence to the terrace, otherwise peaceful. Yangyang says Ten often comes here to clear his head, the serenity of it helping the guy destress from his day job, which Dejun learns to be a high-ranking adventurer with a taste for the most dangerous of bounties.

“You know, one day, I’d like to take my boyfriend here and just… have a normal date. Enjoy the peace and quiet, you get me?” Yangyang sighs, a wistful kind of longing to his tone. Dejun raises an eyebrow at him.

“You,” he deadpans. “And Kunhang. Enjoying peace and quiet. Right.”

Yangyang flushes, turning to smack Dejun’s shoulder lightly.

“Excuse you, I’m actually an introvert!” Yangyang says indignantly. “You don’t have to be an extrovert to be loud all the time, and I like my peace and quiet, thank you very much!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kunhang calm down before,” Dejun points out. “Like, properly.”

Yangyang pauses, suddenly considering it. He scrunches up his nose in thought, unintentionally smashing Dejun’s heart to bits before he shrugs.

“I guess I’ll just have to drag you along then,” Yangyang decides. Dejun frowns.

“But I thought you said boyfriend?” Dejun mumbles, barely audible even to himself. Yangyang turns to him, a confused hum directed to Dejun. Dejun waves him off.

“Nothing,” Dejun dismisses. Good. Yangyang didn’t hear that.

They continue in peaceful silence, passing by a young couple. Dejun thinks they can’t be that much younger than himself, only a little older than Chenle and Jisung. And yet, the way their hands are intertwined while they walk shoulder to shoulder, gentle laughter coming from both sides… 

A warm palm slides up into Dejun’s hand, fingers curling in between his own and startling him. He looks at Yangyang, quietly surprised but doesn’t move to tear his hand away. It feels nice, like their hands were perfectly made to entangle each others’.

Yangyang doesn’t even react to it, gripping onto Dejun’s palm lightly as he tugs him along, a bright smile on his face.

“Look!” Yangyang gestures over to one of the overlooks on the Terrace. There’s a man leaning against the banister and staring into Liyue in the direction Yangyang’s pointing at, a wistful look to his catlike-features as a lantern hangs from the last groove of his fingers. Dejun gulps.

“Is that Ten?” Dejun asks. Yangyang nods enthusiastically, pulling Dejun towards him. As they approach, Dejun can hear the trails of something Ten’s muttering catching his ear.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Xuxi.”

Dejun frowns. Is Lucas doing something reckless today? Oh well, it must just be general worrying. Everyone at the Guild worries for their overgrown puppy of a Branch head.

“Ten!” Yangyang yells, waving to Ten as he practically bounces over to him, dragging Dejun along. Ten turns around, noticing Dejun and Yangyang as his face splits into an easy smile. He swings the lantern from his hands onto the banister, where its dim orange glow lights up the intricate carvings along the stone banister. Ten opens his arms for a hug, to which Yangyang charges at him, letting go of Dejun’s hand in the process. A knot ties in the pit of Dejun’s stomach at the loss of contact, somehow mourning the lack of warmth in his palm as he watches Yangyang nearly tackle Ten in a hug.

“Hi, baby,” Ten hums, ruffling Yangyang’s hair as he gently sets him back down onto the ground. Dejun feels awkward, like watching a long-time reunion scene in an opera having fallen asleep through why they were separated in the first place.

“Where’s Kun?” Ten asks after Yangyang’s finished making bird noises while half-strangling him. Dejun jumpsuit, taking the opportunity to make his presence known.

“Trying to wait out your wrath while processing a crush,” Dejun supplies helpfully. Ten turns to him, one eyebrow raised as if to ask who he is. Dejun opens his mouth to respond when Yangyang suddenly pipes up.

“You can call him Dejun. He pretends to hate being called anything but his work name, Xiaojun, but he’s got a secret soft spot, you know?” Yangyang rambles, smiling from ear to ear as he presents Dejun to Ten like an excited kid showing off his new best friend from school.

“Yangyang,” Dejun whines. “I can introduce myself.”

Yangyang sticks out his tongue at Dejun, and Dejun must _really_ be fucked if he even finds _that_ cute.

Ten gives him a curious look, glancing back and forth between him and Yangyang. A mysterious smile tugs at the corner of his lips, as if Ten’s realized something neither of them knows. Dejun feels a chill run down his spine, suddenly fearful.

“Are you here for the Cleansing Bell?” Ten asks, picking up his lantern again. Yangyang pouts, dilating his pupils to make puppy dog eyes at Ten.

“Can’t I visit my favourite gege in the whole wide world without you assuming I have some ulterior motive?” Yangyang singsongs, saccharine sweetness in his tone. Ten fake gags, rolling his eyes at Yangyang and Dejun can’t help but laugh at the whole thing.

“It’s you,” Ten deadpans. “You never willingly come to see me unless you made Kun mad or need something from me.”

Yangyang makes an indignant noise in the back of his throat.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that Kun told me to go get the Cleansing Bell and that _I_ don’t need it!” Yangyang argues. Ten raises an eyebrow at him.

“So you admit you’re here for the bell, which constitutes an ulterior motive,” Ten hums, summarizing the situation. Yangyang freezes like a rabbit who stumbled upon a Cryo Regisvine, and Dejun continues to cackle. The shtick goes on for a few more minutes, with Ten getting a rise out of poor Yangyang whilst simultaneously babying him, like an older brother who finds his sibling much too cute. Dejun can’t help but agree.

“Anyway,” Ten grins after he’s extracted maximum enjoyment from teasing Yangyang. “You want the bell, right?”

Yangyang, thankful to finally be let off the hook, sighs and nods along, somewhat defeated. “Yes, please,” he mumbles. Ten hums, nodding as he holds out his lantern for Dejun and Yangyang.

“Here,” Ten says, offering the paper-mache light. Dejun frowns, confused.

“That doesn’t look like a bell,” Dejun points out, feeling a little stupid for having to point out that a lantern is, in fact, not a bell. Ten doesn’t say anything, only smiling mysteriously.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Ten agrees. “Just take it, will you?”

Dejun turns to Yangyang, wary as he asks for help. Yangyang just shrugs, evidently clueless too. Dejun sighs, deciding he has no other option, and wraps his palm around the wooden stick Ten uses to hold up the thing.

Almost immediately, bright green energy soars into the air, covering him and Yangyang in vine-like tendrils. Dejun widens his eyes, confused as he turns to Ten, finally noticing a small green glint hanging from an armband near his shoulders. A Dendro Vision.

Dejun gasps, feeling the tendrils take over as he’s sucked into the lantern, Yangyang in tow as they tumble. A bright flash of white light takes over his vision, searing off any and all of Dejun’s senses. He can feel something wrapping around his torso, resembling a pair of arms as a head is tucked into the crook of his neck. Before Dejun can even process it, the world starts to dim back into visibility again.

The scene he’s greeted with looks like it came straight out of a woven tapestry, vibrant lime and dazzling gold painting a void-like background. In the forefront of Dejun’s visions, a cluster of island-like stone platforms dot the tapestry, furnished into rooms as if the whole thing was just a giant void home.

It’s by the time Dejun realizes this fact that he also realizes the fact that he and Yangyang are floating about fifty feet in the air, held up by literally nothing as they start to plummet towards the ground. Dejun yelps, clinging onto Yangyang for dear life as he tries not to scream like a little girl.

“Hold on!” Yangyang yells, Anemo energy swirling around them as invisible winds crash into Dejun and Yangyang from below, barely cushioning their fall. Mere moments before the landing, Yangyang swings his arm in a wide arc, sweeping the winds along with him as he spins them around in a circle to disperse momentum, before planting a foot on the ground.

The landing is as gentle as crash landings can get, with Dejun toppling over the moment he touches the ground and into Yangyang. Yangyang lands on his back, eyes squeezing shut in mild pain as Dejun ends up falling on top of him. He hovers over top of Yangyang, their faces merely inches apart as Yangyang’s eyes fly open again, meeting Dejun’s own.

Silence.

Now, Dejun’s spent a lot of time staring at one Liu Yangyang before, committing every soft curve and megawatt smile to memory because, well, how could he not? Objectively speaking, he’s just simply the most beautiful person Dejun’s ever met, up there with He Who Shall Not Be Named. His eyes are big and doe-like, a slight tinge of hazel in the deep, black canvases that resembles the starry skies dejun used to stare at when he feels utterly alone on adventures. 

Dejun’s thoughts drift, brain starting to fill with thoughts he’d wave away at any other point in time. He wonders what Yangyang’s eyes would look like with soft morning sunlight dusting over his eyelashes, painting him a pretty golden shade. Dejun’s eyes drift to Yangyang’s lips on instinct, finding the pretty pink little thing chapped and so damn kissable, and for a moment, Dejun wonders if he’d taste as sweet as his smile.

“Hi,” Yangyang whispers, breaking the silence. Dejun doesn’t know where the sudden confidence that’s surging in his veins is coming from, the warm buzz of emotions bundled in his chest threatening to spill at any moment and make him do something Dejun knows he won’t be able to take back.

“Hi,” Dejun smiles back, slightly surprised by how deep his voice sounds. He hadn’t meant to intentionally do it, but the slight dust of pink on Yangyang’s cheeks certainly gives away some thoughts. Dejun’s smile widens ever so slightly, and he plays with the idea of leaning a little closer. It would be so easy, and Yangyang is just simply… tantalizing. He could just—

Another image flashes in his brain at that point, of another pretty boy who Yangyang calls his own. One who Dejun would never admit to giving his heart to, but one that Yangyang calls his beloved even despite their rocky period right now. If Yangyang was Dejun’s drop of starlight on a dark day, Kunhang feels like the warm, protective heat of a campfire on a frozen winter night.

He can’t. He can’t do this. Can’t tear these two apart. Can’t let them have anything but happiness, the happiness they seem to once share, and one Dejun knows they can get back. He just needs to try harder to get them to reconcile, and kissing Yangyang would be extremely counterproductive to that goal.

So Dejun does what every fibre of his being is yelling at him to not do and stands up, offering a hand out to Yangyang in false-naturalness. There’s a twinge of disappointment in Yangyang’s eyes. Dejun thinks he must’ve dreamed it up.

A loud, forced-sounding cough rings from the other side of the stone platform they’ve landed on, drawing Dejun’s attention as he turns to it. Ten is standing on one of the stone banisters nearby, a Bo staff in one hand and a small, golden bell in the other. There’s an unreadable look in his eyes.

“Congratulations, children,” Ten says solemnly. “For being the first to not make out on my porch.”

Silence. Yangyang’s ears turn bright red. “That was _one_ time!” Yangyang whines, stomping his foot like an angry eight-year-old child. Cute, Dejun thinks. No more of these thoughts, Dejun’s brain echoes back.

Ten grins, swinging his staff behind his back as he holds up the bell. “Anyway, this is the Cleansing Bell. But I’ve been holding onto it for so long, you know? I can’t just hand it over willy nilly.”

Dejun freezes, suddenly wary. He had the foresight to bring along his catalyst today, the silver pearl and black frame hanging from Dejun’s waist. Yangyang had told him Ten has a liking for the thrill of battle, explaining his thirst for dangerous commissions and adventures.

“So how’s this?” Ten asks with a grin. “Why don’t you take it from me? Surely the people who’ve gone toe to toe with one of the fatui Harbingers would be powerful enough for such a thing!”

As Ten finishes his sentence, Yangyang launches forwards, speed nearly blinding as he swings his own Bo staff in a wide arc, bringing Anemo along with him. Ten reacts in a split second, testing his body to the side and thrusting his palm towards Yangyang as green Dendro energy solidifies into tendrils of vines. They weave and collide in mid-air, chasing after Yangyang as he twists and turns his body every which way to avoid them.

Dejun fires up his catalyst, channelling elemental magic from his Delusion into his palms as he tries to remember Kun’s advice. Focus the energy, redirect it into the catalyst, let the fire take over and—

_Fwoosh!_

Ten’s eyes widen in mild shock as the giant wave of fire comes into contact with his Dendro vines. Ten jumps out of the way, hopping onto a smaller Dendro vine. Yangyang takes the opportunity to immediately swing back, pushing his Anemo energy into a single swing as he zips towards Ten.

Ten sidesteps him easily, covering himself in a layer of vines before running along the vines towards the stone platform Dejun is on.

Dejun’s eyes widen, sensing his plan as his battle instincts kick in. He may not be as used to fighting with an element as the others are, but years of adventuring has given him more than enough experience handling everything from Hilichurls to Ruin Guards.

Ten swings at Dejun, to which he easily ducks out of the way of, swinging his leg underneath Ten to trip him up. He makes contact, but Ten instantly uses the extra bit of momentum to land on his hands, spinning his staff in his hand.

Dejun raises his right arm to block the staff, swinging his left arm up as he collects Pyro energy in his palm. He tries to imagine a giant explosion, one that could blow Ten away and forces the Pyro energy out of him, mere inches away from Ten’s back.

_Boom!_

Ten doesn’t even seem fazed, righting himself in the air as another thick Dendro vine rises from the ground to cushion the impact. He prepares to charge again, only for Yangyang to intercept him with a blast of Anemo. Yangyang follows along with the blast, swinging his staff at Ten, only to be blocked by Ten’s superior speed.

“I taught you everything you know, baby!” Ten drawls, a cheshire grin on his face despite facing a two on one. Yangyang growls, using his Anemo to lift himself higher as he goes for a rapid kick and staff combo.

“The student always surpasses the master,” Yangyang retorts. Ten dodges out of the way with ease, spinning his Bo staff in a tight circle to deflect the Anemo outburst, sending it right back at Yangyang.

Dejun sets up his catalyst again, holding it in front of his face as he pushes both palms towards it, summoning every ounce of Pyro energy at his disposal. Ten turns to him, pleasantly surprised as he charges at Dejun. He nearly makes contact, only stopping a few inches away when Yangyang manages to slide behind him and loops his Bo staff around Ten’s torso for a moment.

Ten grunts at the sudden intrusion, unable to stop Dejun in time as he blasts the Pyro, the full force of a Delusion coming at Ten. A thick Dendro vine rises out of the ground to block, but a sudden anemo current swings by and blasts right against Dejun’s Pyro, causing Swirl to spread to Pyro all around the vine, destroying it instantly.

The fire fades, and Dejun is barely processing the whole thing before he sees the smoke settle, leaving bits of charred Dendro vines behind, and Ten nearly twenty feet away from them, still on his feet. The golden bell still hangs by his side, untouched as Ten grins. Dejun’s stomach drops.

It’s impossible. Ten’s too fast and too powerful. He likely has years of experience over them, and if his banter from earlier is any indication, he’ll know Yangyang’s fighting style inside out.

“You’ll have to do better than that!” Ten yells, charging back in. Dejun turns to Yangyang, silently asking for a plan, only to find Yangyang glaring back at him in complete trust. Then, it hit Dejun like a ton of bricks.

Yangyang’s been drawing the fight out. He knows they can’t beat Ten when Dejun has barely even met the guy. He’s purposely making Ten show all of his cards, and then pointedly asking Dejun how to defeat him. He’s trusting Dejun with all of it.

He can’t give up.

“Get us up!” Dejun yells, grabbing onto Yangyang’s forearm as Yangyang reacts instantly, pushing them up with a giant surge of Anemo-powered winds. Ten misses his attack by a hair, instantly jumping up as his Dendro vines follow. Ten taught Yangyang everything he knew, sure, but a teacher can only teach what he knows. And if Dejun’s learnt anything from seeing Yangyang fight with a near reliance on his Anemo, it’s that he couldn’t have learnt that himself.

Ten’s got the exact same reliance.

Dejun takes a deep breath, positioning his catalyst in front of him again as he cups his mouth. He prays Yangyang will get what he’s trying to do, unleashing another giant dome of Pyro as he focuses on spreading it as opposed to directly attacking Ten. The Pyro starts to singe some of the vines, but barely any progress is made. Ten’s getting closer and closer, and Dejun doesn’t have much time to keep pushing until—

_Swoosh!_

A hurricane’s worth of Anemo spirals from behind him, Swirl occurring as the Pyro is spread into a giant tsunami of fire, drowning ten’s Dendro vines as they disappear instantly. Ten loses his footing without the vines, stumbling for a split second.

“Yangyang!” Dejun yells, watching as Yangyang reacts instantly, shooting forwards and grabbing the golden bell out of Ten’s belt. He slams into the ground with a deafening crash, tucking into a roll before punching a massive burst of Anemo back into the air to cushion Dejun’s descent back to the ground. Another Dendro vine shoots out of the ground to catch Ten, and soon, they’re back on the stone platform.

Dejun heaves, feeling exhausted as he drops to his knees. He can’t help the smile that etches onto his face, half in disbelief that they actually managed to pull it off and half out of pure relief.

They did it. They got the bell from Ten.

“Not bad,” Ten hums, nodding as he steps down from the vine to approach Dejun and Yangyang, both trying to catch their breath. He doesn’t even look winded.

“That last part,” Yangyang says between breaths. “You didn’t even try to block me. I know you’re fast enough for that.”

Ten shrugs, a mysterious look in his eyes. “Maybe I was preoccupied with looking at Dejun in awe. After all, not just anyone can figure out a fighting style and come up with that kind of plan on the fly.”

Yangyang grins, turning to look at Dejun as Dejun’s ears tinge red in embarrassment. “That’s— No, that was nothing, I was just—” Dejun stammers. Yangyang rolls his eyes, punching his shoulder lightly.

“Come on, take the compliment!” Yangyang teases. “You did great! We got the bell!”

Dejun clamps his mouth shut, still blushing furiously as he turns back to Ten, who’s grinning mysteriously at him.

“Yes,” Ten agrees. “You’re doing great, Dejun. You’ve got quite the knack for figuring people out, don’t you?”

Dejun doesn’t quite get the suggestive hint in Ten’s tone.

Dejun and Yangyang meet up with Kun and Kunhang about an hour later at the Wanmin Restaurant, already starting late lunch by the time the pair rolls in. Kun’s hair is slightly singed, the smell of burnt fabric filling the air as he stumbles in, dusting off a light layer of soot from his shoulder. Kunhang looks even worse for wear, a giant patch of black soot on his face and a nasty looking gash on his left arm.

Dejun freezes, dumpling halfway between his plate and mouth. “What happened?” Dejun frowns. “I thought you guys were just going to buy Everlasting Incense?”

Kun huffs, jabbing his finger behind him. Dejun peers around him to see a sheepish Jisung trying to hide behind a bush. He’s much too tall for the thing, but the effort can clearly be seen.

“Sicheng’s driving up the price like crazy, and I don’t exactly have three million Mora to spare. He suggests we exchange something of equal value instead, and Jisung insists the only thing that valuable was milk from an elusive Adeptibeast called a Cocogoat,” Kun explains, wiping Kunhang’s face-off with his sleeve.

“Cocogoat?” Dejun questions. “That’s a thing?”

Kunhang rolls his eyes, running his hand through his hair messily as he plops down onto the empty seat next to Dejun. “Exactly,” he huffs. “It doesn’t exist. Jisung sent us all the way down to the Guizhong Ballista outside of town claiming that ‘the ancient weapon is the only thing that can defeat the Cocogoat’,” Kunhang imitates, deepening his voice to match Jisung’s timbre and waving his chopsticks in the air. He then proceeds to steal one of Dejun and Yangyang’s dumplings, earning himself a kick to the shin from the latter.

“So then what happened?” Yangyang asks, jumping into the conversation. Kun sighs, sitting down onto one of the other empty stools.

“Treasure hoarders in the area,” Kun gestures vaguely. “Got angry after we fixed up the Ballista they spent so long destroying. Barely scraped out of that one. There were nearly a hundred of them, all setting up camp in the nearby Dunyu Ruins.”

As if on cue, three loud choruses of laughter echo from down the street. Dejun looks up to find Lucas walking side by side with Ten and another man. The man has messy albino white locks, resembling a chick of sorts. His clothes seem to be the opposite of his warm curves, all cold shades of light teal and white, like snow and ice. A Cryo Vision dangles from where his collarbone would be under his tunic, almost like a fancy pin of sorts. Dejun notes the bow on his back, strapped on despite the safety of the city. He seems to be a cautious one.

“...And then he said ‘I’m sorry, Sungie, but we couldn’t find it. The Cocogoat slipped past our radar’,” the chick-like man laughs, his smile big and bright on his face. “And you know what Sungie said back to him?”

“What?” Lucas asks. Ten is already cackling again, probably guessing what the Chick-like man was going to say.

“‘But… my coconut milk’,” the chick-like man says, dropping his voice to imitate this ‘Sungie’. Dejun frowns, whipping his head to Kun and Kunhang, who are pinching their nose bridges in exasperation and disbelief. The puzzle pieces click together.

“Are you done telling half the city about today’s events, Sicheng?” Kun says loudly, looking up to level his gaze with the chick-like man who Dejun assumes to be Sicheng. Sicheng’s grin widens, winking at Kun as he slides into one of the empty stools around the table.

“Oh I’m not stopping until even the Tianquan has heard about this,” Sicheng says in false-reassurance. “I can’t believe you fell for that. Cocogoat? Really?”

Kun growls, waving him off. He turns to Sicheng, about to retort with something when something suddenly catches his eye. Kun freezes mid syllable, meeting gaze with Ten, who wears his Cheshire smile like a second layer of skin. Next to Dejun, Yangyang stifles a cackle.

“Ten,” Kun says, voice completely flat. Ten seems to revel in Kun’s sudden gay panic.

“Kun,” Ten replies courtly. “Your avoidance shtick really doesn’t suit you. I would’ve thought you’d be a little more upfront with your feelings, Mr. I Face All My Clients Head On.”

Kun rolls his eyes, sitting straight up as he averts his gaze. He ends up locking eyes with Lucas from across the table, whose eyebrows wiggle like no tomorrow.

“I’m not avoiding you,” Kun mumbles, trying to move his gaze again. He meets Sicheng’s gaze this time, who only rolls his eyes and jabs his chopsticks at Ten. Begrudgingly, Kun returns his gaze there.

“Really? Then I’m sure you have no problem coming with me for a moment,” Ten drawls with saccharine sweetness. He rests a palm onto Kun’s shoulder and turns to the rest of the table with a faux-apologetic look. Kun freezes, panic in his eyes as if saying ‘please help me’.

“You’re on your own,” Lucas shrugs, picking up a dumpling and plopping it into his mouth. Kun’s face morphs into pure and utter betrayal.

“Excuse us,” Ten says sweetly, promptly lifting Kun out of his seat and dragging him away by the collar. Yangyang and Kunhang make catcalls and whistles after them, while Lucas is yelling for them to ‘not taint innocent bypassing eyes’. Dejun can’t help but dissolve into cackles at the sight of Kun’s angry expression as he’s being led away. Sicheng is the only one who reacts relatively calmly, only shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he starts to eat.

Dejun finds himself falling into an easy rhythm again. Chatting up with Yangyang, Kunhang, Lucas and Sicheng while they wait for Ten and Kun to return. He learns that Sicheng’s the gentleman who owns the Bubu Pharmacy, where Jisung the zombie works at.

Sicheng is quiet, much quieter than even Dejun or Kun, who are prone to react more than tell stories in this group. Still, every time Sicheng opens his mouth, a new chorus of laughter and cackles echo the air of Wanmin Restaurant, the whole group constantly taken aback by Sicheng’s comments. It’s hard _not_ to laugh with Sicheng, Dejun thinks, his natural deadpan humour just so damn hilarious.

Sometime into the night, Ten and Kun return, both looking much more dishevelled than most people would be after a light chat about feelings. Kunhang throws in a suggestive comment or two, and the whole table is back to loud laughter while Kun tries to blend into the background, face beet red.

Dejun discovers Ten to be just as shameless and flirty as Kunhang, even if he’s more teasing than complimentary. He’s the same age as Kun, even if they certainly don’t act like it. He’s also a dancer at the nearby teahouse when he’s not looking for commissions, claiming that dance is just a side passion of his. The others all butt in at that, vetoing Ten’s downplay before rambling off about his talent.

Dejun finds himself sucked into the dynamic, slotting himself somewhere between the quiet giggler and the loud, defensive victim of the group. Lucas has too much dirt on him, even if they barely meet.

“...So I’m just saying,” Ten rambles. “That direct confrontation is always better! I mean, just look at how many love stories boil down to basic communications issues because both parties just refuse to be mature and _talk_.”

Kun frowns. “But sometimes, there are just topics and things you need to be wary of,” Kun argues. “Things you shouldn’t so brashly bring up. Feelings are the same.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, tapping his chopsticks together. “Feelings are just another emotion,” Lucas argues. “They can’t be _that_ hard.”

Sicheng nods along in agreement. Dejun and Yangyang chime in, all yelling their protest about how everything can unravel if someone says the wrong thing. They somehow all turn to Kunhang, who too often becomes the one to wrap up these long-winded arguments.

“All right all right,” Kunhang says, making a ‘calm down’ gesture with his free hand. “You all raise good points. Yes, talking about things does make things clearer and more often than not resolves things.”

Lucas, Sicheng and Ten chime their agreement. Kunhang makes a large ‘shut up’ motion.

“But sometimes, people need time too,” Kunhang argues. “Like Kun here—”

“Don’t,” Kun hisses, a warning in his tone. Kunhang gulps, instantly getting the message.

“Ah. Well, you know what I mean,” Kunhang waves. Lucas frowns, creasing his eyebrows together.

“But more often than not, both sides end up just waiting forever, and it ends up taking a disaster for both of them to just… _say_ something,” Lucas argues. He’s waving his chopsticks around, not really pointing to anything in particular, but Dejun can’t help but feel the thing jabbing at him. Lucas isn’t talking about _Dejun_ , is he?

“I’m just saying,” Kunhang argues. “That maybe everyone involved just needs time to fix a problem before they can say something.”

“But later becomes never, Dery,” Ten chimes in. “I still say you should at least be upfront with your feelings. He might just slip away before you know it.”

Kunhang quietens at that, shrugging as he turns to his meal. The atmosphere suddenly becomes tense, as if they’ve struck a nerve. Dejun freezes, awkwardly glancing between everyone. He ends up landing his gaze onto Sicheng, who’s been staring at him all night like a complicated puzzle he can’t solve.

Only now, there’s an understanding glint in his eyes.

“Hey, have you guys heard?” Sicheng starts, steering the conversation. “They admitted Jungwoo into the Millieth.”

That starts up a new round of discussions, changing the topic, but Dejun can’t help but feel Ten’s words sink in.

_He might just slip away before you know it._

It was directed at Kunhang. Is he talking about Yangyang, perhaps? But it didn’t feel like that, with how Lucas and Kun kept gesturing in Dejun’s direction all dinner.

Something’s afoot, Dejun thinks. And he’s got a bad feeling about it.

_Laughter._

_Carefree and light, like the sound of tinkling wind chimes in a light breeze. Dejun opens his eyes, the feeling of soft grass blades gentle as they against his back as they tickle the space behind his ear. He can smell the faint scent of Windwheel Asters basking in the breeze, sweet caress of the lazy summer day gentle as it ruffles his unkempt, adventure-ridden hair._

_He’s on one side of what seems to be a human sandwich, a pretty boy with eyes that glimmer like sunlight under the clear blue sky pressed up on his side and staring at the clouds. His brown hair is equally as messy and unkempt, smelling faintly of strawberries as Dejun’s nose remains buried in the crown of his head. There’s a faint glow of Anemo around him, the slight tinge of teal dancing off of the boy’s body and joining the light breeze over them. His mouth is open, saying something that Dejun can’t quite hear, but there’s a deep rhythm in his ribcage playing along with the melody of fondness._

_On the pretty boy’s other side is another happy soul, who Dejun guesses to be the owner of that light laughter that woke him up earlier. He looks up and is greeted with sharp features that don’t quite match the gentle, fond expression on his face. There’s a jagged scar that runs from the guy’s forehead to his lower eye bag, a dark shade of crimson that’s long faded into nothing more than a mark. The faint buzz of Electro hums around him, as if restless from days of boring travelling. His arm is trapped underneath the neck of the pretty boy between them, who’s still rambling on about something Dejun can’t hear._

_The scene feels peaceful, as if it was a precious glimpse into a future that’s hanging between Dejun’s fingers like a delicate flower, ready to crumble at any moment. So close, yet so far. So attainable, yet so elusive at the same time._

_Sometime between the staring, Dejun finally gains enough energy to peer a little closer, finally trying to make out the features of the people who seem to make his sky so bright and clear, the slow trickle of realization dripping onto him as the scene grows more and more unclear with every second, until—_

Dejun sits up, eyes flying wide open as a cold sweat runs down his back. He had a dream about Yangyang and… He Who Shall Not Be Named. They were… happy. Carefree. Adventuring in some wild place and living out the best life possible. It feels… right, somehow, despite everything in Dejun’s brain yelling at him that one, they’re both very much taken and relatively happy people in a committed relationship and two, one of them is his mortal enemy.

“You good?” Lucas asks, apparently not gone to bed yet. He’s still up sorting commissions for the Guild, Dejun notes, working into late hours of the night. Dejun purses his lips, debating confiding in Lucas, of all people. Sure, he can keep a secret is great at giving advice, but Dejun’s new to this whole… emotional attachment thing.

“Yeah, I’m just…” Dejun mumbles, wondering if he should just go back to bed. Lucas—

No. If he’s going to do this whole friendship thing properly, dropping formal names is step number one.

 _Yukhei_ raises an eyebrow, like a gentle prod for Dejun to say something.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” Dejun mutters, swinging his legs off to step onto the floor. Yukhei hums, going back to the commissions.

“You know it’s not a crime to like more than two people, right?” Yukhei points out, almost nonchalant. Dejun freezes in his tracks. Has he been _that_ obvious?

“I know,” Dejun sighs, pulling on a light coat. He pauses, turning to Yukhei with slight hesitance.

“Xuxi,” he adds, testing out how Yukhei’s common nickname sounds on his own tongue. Yukhei freezes for a moment, looking up with gentle surprise. His expression softens, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You deserve to be loved too, Junnie,” Yukhei replies, and Dejun finds that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t really mind nicknames anymore.

He ends up wandering far from the Guild, his feet taking Dejun all the way to the docks while the minimum staff mills around at 2 AM. He ends up on the very same spot he had met Doyoung nearly two weeks ago, when a dozen Millieth were hot on his tail. Dejun sighs, leaning over the banisters to breathe in the cold fresh ocean air of the night.

His thoughts drift again, as they so often do nowadays. He thinks of all of his new friends, from lovable Yukhei to gentle Kun, wondering if Mark or Renjun would be up to stoke their embers of friendship into something a little more. Sure, they may never offer the same kind of instant comfort the crew Dejun’s found in Liyue offers, but they’ve managed to stand him for long enough. He shouldn’t push them away again.

Slowly, Dejun’s thoughts drift onto the cause of the night, retracing details of his dream with vivid clarity, from the scent of the Windwheel Asters to the bright blue sky that shone down on the two pretty boys Dejun’s fallen in love with, somewhere in the last two weeks.

Dejun’s expression falters. Love. He’s fallen in love. Sure, with Yangyang it was natural and expected, somewhat inevitable, maybe. But on the other hand… 

“Fancy catching you here,” a deep, familiar voice rumbles from behind Dejun. Dejun whirls around to find the very object of his troubles casually strolling up to him, hands half resting in his pockets. He’s wearing what looks to be nothing but pyjama pants and a large, oversized sweater, hair tousled as if he had just rolled out of bed. Dejun hums in place of a greeting.

“Why’re you up?” Dejun asks. Kunhang shrugs, joining Dejun on his spot by the banisters as he leans over them. The cocky, self-confident aura of flirty Kunhang is back, Dejun notes, as if it’s gone away in the presence of Yangyang.

“I could say the same for you, baby boy,” Kunhang teases, as if ‘flirt’ was second nature to him. Dejun finds his lips tugging into the once-familiar scowl.

“Don’t call me that,” Dejun chides, but his words have lost the bite they once had. Curse his soft, weak heart that crumbles at the sight of pretty, caring boys. Even Kunhang seems to be surprised at the sudden tone change, although his expression reverts in a matter of seconds.

“Grown soft, Junnie?” Kunhang asks, still playful in nature, yet there’s a soft lace of genuine concern in his words. Abandoned the nickname. For good, Dejun hopes.

“You wish, Dery,” Dejun scoffs, although his lips tug into a smile anyway. Kunhang seems taken aback by the nickname, not sure how to react to this new, un-hostile Dejun. Dejun resists the urge to smile. Hah. He wins this round.

“Why did you ever hate me in the first place?” Kunhang asks, genuinely curious. Dejun hums, looking away to break eye contact. He thinks back to just two weeks ago, when he wanted nothing to do with Kunhang. Heck, he had only come to Liyue at the promise of Mora and an adventurous commission. It’s strange how fast things can change in just the blink of an eye.

“You’re self-confident and self-assured,” Dejun finds himself saying. “Able to scrape yourself out of a tough spot with nothing more but words and a few carefully placed winks. You had a reputation, people to call friends and even a boyfriend, despite your skewed sense of judgement in taking on commissions.”

Kunhang scoffs in mild disbelief. “You were jealous?!” Kunhang asks, somewhat incredulous. “You? Famed investigator of the Adventurer’s Guild, who holds good relations with nearly all of the seven nations of Teyvat? The legendary adventurer who could defeat a Ruin Guard even without a Vision? Trusted detective for the murder of _Rex Lapis_ by the Liyue Qixing, who are known to be some of the most close-minded individuals in the continent? Jealous of me? A thief who can’t even keep his relationship because he’s overprotective and makes horrible life decisions to cope with it?”

Dejun winces. “Don’t sell yourself short,” Dejun chides, a faint blush creeping up his cheek. “Plus, all of those things aren’t even that…”

Kunhang gives him a look that could only mean a sarcastic ‘sure’. Dejun clamps his mouth shut.

“I can’t even tell you my emotions,” Dejun argues. “Much less interrogate a whole city for one individual.”

Kunhang purses his lips at that one. “Emotions are hard,” he points out. “It’s like the ultimate human fatal flaw.”

Dejun hums, only half convinced. They stand in silence for a little longer, not quite sure what to do in this new peaceful dynamic of theirs. Dejun wonders if the slow thumping of his heart that reaches his ear is trying to tell him something, but he’s always been thick-skulled. Stubborn. And yet, he can’t exactly ignore the giant neon sign in front of him.

“Dejun I—”

“Look, I—” they begin at the same time.

Silence.

Dejun can’t help but chuckle a little, gesturing for Kunhang to start. Kunhang’s lips tug into a smile.

“When this is all over,” Kunhang begins. “Would you let me take you on a proper date? One without invading Fatui or five other loud dudes all trying to steal the last dumpling.”

Dejun purses his lips. “What about Yangyang?” Dejun asks. “I’m not going to help you cheat. Your relationship is worse as it is.”

Kunhang’s lips tug into a smile, hand reaching forwards to wrap around Dejun’s as he tugs him away from the banister.

“I think I should let him say it,” Kunhang decides in place of an answer. Dejun frowns, quietly confused but lets himself get dragged along anyway. The feeling of Kunhang’s hand wrapped around his is nice, much like the warmth from Yangyang’s hand yesterday morning. He thinks he could get used to it, if given the chance.

They arrive back at the Guild, passing by Lucas posting up the next day’s commissions along the way. Lucas catches their intertwined hands and gives Dejun a cheeky thumbs-up, grinning wolfishly. Dejun rolls his eyes at him, following Kunhang as they practically charge up the stairs. They arrive at the room Lucas is letting Kunhang and Yangyang stay at for the Liyue Lockdown, a small room barely big enough for two. Kunhang doesn’t knock, opening the doorknob and charging straight in.

Yangyang is sitting by the windowsill, a box of what looks to be a jewelry making set in his lap. There are some golden materials that resemble the earrings Yangyang gave Dejun the other day, which clicks together some puzzle pieces. The jeweller adventurer Yangyang found isn’t a stranger, is he?

“Wha—” Yangyang stammers, surprised as he tries to pack up the kit. Kunhang doesn’t wait for him to answer, plopping down straight on Yangyang’s bedside bed and dragging Dejun along with him.

“Tell him,” Kunhang says, answering absolutely no questions. Dejun frowns, about to call him out for the sudden statement that makes Yangyang’s eyes go wide.

“Did you...?” Yangyang gasps, turning to Dejun in surprise. Dejun rolls his eyes.

“If someone doesn’t tell me something concrete in the next ten seconds, I’m going to walk through that door and never return,” Dejun deadpans, gesturing to the open door behind him. Kunhang and Yangyang panic, instantly scrambling and Dejun has to fight back the urge to laugh. They’re just so damn _cute_.

“Have you ever heard of a poly relationship, Junnie?” Yangyang asks. Dejun hums, thinking back to his adventures. He’s definitely met people who love more than one person, thinking of Renjun and his solemn mentioned boyfriends. He had initially thought the whole idea to be a little ridiculous, but Renjun seemed happy.

“I understand the concept of it,” Dejun decides to say. Yangyang nods, evidently satisfied with the answer. He turns to Kunhang, as if asking him one last time who should say something. Kunhang gestures for Yangyang to go ahead.

“What if,” Yangyang begins shyly. “We told you we’d be open to having someone else in our relationship? This past week alone you’ve helped us communicate better than we ever had before and we’d just…”

Dejun hums, brain yet to catch up with the implications of Yangyang’s words. “You’re not making much sense,” Dejun says gently. Yangyang purses his bottom lip, not knowing how to proceed. Kunhang, in his ever impatient manner, gives up on the both of them.

“He means to say we love you,” Kunhang deadpans. “And that he’s been thinking about kissing you ever since your whole stunt yesterday. And that we’d love to kiss you every day if you say yes.”

Yangyang’s cheeks flush red. “Kunhang!” he stammers, smacking Kunhang’s thigh with his sleeve like a peeved cat. Cute. Dejun could see that every day if he says—

Wait.

If he says yes.

They’re asking him out.

Kunhang and Yangyang. Like him.

No, love him, from Kunhang’s choice of words.

Love.

Him.

Xiao Dejun.

They love _him_.

“Oh no, I think you broke him,” Yangyang says worriedly as he waves a hand in front of Dejun’s face. Dejun doesn’t even blink, his brain completely frozen as realization punches him in the face.

They… love him. Want to have a three-way relationship that involves _him_ , Xiao Dejun, Emotionally Constipated Idiot Number One.

“Wait, let me try something,” Kunhang proposes, getting up from his spot and leaning across the bed. Dejun’s brain is still overheating.

They—

A soft pair of lips rest against his, slotting perfectly into the empty space left behind by Dejun’s quiet gaping as everything comes crashing down. Dejun’s breath hitches in his throat as his brain goes into overdrive, a giant red ‘Emergency’ sign flashing in his brain. Error. Brain does not compute. Kunhang is kissing him. Impossible.

And yet… possible. In fact, happening right at this moment, even if the contact is fleeting. Dejun surges forwards, acting all on reflex and instinct as he chases after Kunhang’s retreating lips. Kunhang makes another surprised sound as Dejun closes the distance again, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

Dejun closes his eyes, revelling in the feeling of gentle warmth blooming in the pit of his stomach. Kunhang tastes faintly of homemade toothpaste and whatever berry-flavoured late-night snack he picked up outside earlier, but it all drowns in the taste that Dejun summarizes to just being _Kunhang_ in all of his glory.

Kunhang’s arms wrap around Dejun’s waist, gently resting against his hip bone as he lets Dejun push him against the bed frame, whining into the kiss. Kunhang bites at Dejun’s bottom lip, seeking permission. Dejun hums against his mouth, opening his own as he feels the butterflies inside kick up a storm.

They make out for god knows how long, revelling in each other without abandon and Dejun thinks he can drown like this, in the ocean that is love with two willing boys who act like oxygen to Dejun’s cold, numb limbs.

“You’re so pretty,” Kunhang whispers. “Our pretty little Junnie.”

Dejun can’t help but flush at that one, pushing Kunhang onto the bed before turning to Yangyang with an exasperated look as if to say ‘can you believe this guy?’. But where Dejun expects a comrade, he finds a wide-eyed little sheep biting his bottom lip, hesitating to say something.

“Can I?” Dejun asks for him, surprised by his own sudden emotional intelligence. Maybe it’s just Kunhang rubbing off of him. The guy’s enough of a flirt for all three of them.

Yangyang nods shyly, still biting his bottom lip as Dejun scoots over to him, cupping Yangyang’s face in his hands. Yangyang’s hands come up to rest on Dejun’s wrists, lightly hanging off of them as he finally looks a little less nervous than before.

“How does it feel like to hold the world in your hands, Junnie?” Kunhang calls from his spot on the bed. Yangyang’s cheeks flush red again, and Dejun can’t help but follow suit.

“Fucking amazing,” Dejun whispers, finally mustering up enough courage to leans over and close the distance. Yangyang makes a soft noise in the back of his throat of pleasant surprise, a sudden eagerness taking over as he nips on Dejun’s bottom lip.

If Kunhang tastes like a warm, gentle caress of a winter campfire, then Yangyang must be the refreshing taste of water on a hot summer day. Dejun lets himself get overwhelmed, allowing Yangyang to overpower and press little kisses onto his lips before smiling into the whole thing, leaning forwards a little.

He ends up wiggling himself onto Dejun’s lap, an awkward arrangement considering the fact that Yangyang is deceptively tall. Yangyang kisses with the excitement of an overgrown puppy and the child-like glee of a five-year-old. Yet the hands that press along Dejun’s back hold tight and hard, as if Yangyang was scared he might slip away at any moment. Dejun doesn’t move to leave, passively trying to catch up to Yangyang’s demanding pace.

“I love you,” Yangyang mutters, dropping his head onto Dejun’s chest as his hands leave Dejun’s back. Dejun has no idea what he’s doing, but judging by the pair of arms that wrap around the both of them and pulling them onto Yangyang’s tiny bed to squish together, it worked.

“I love you too,” Kunhang whispers, smiling as he presses a butterfly kiss onto Dejun’s accidentally exposed collarbone. Dejun whines, shoving him as much as possible without making him fall off of the bed.

“I love you three,” Dejun mumbles, burying his face in Yangyang’s shoulder as he revels in the soft giggles the pair around him give. He could get used to this, thinking about the dream that had led to tonight’s events. That fateful dream.

Perhaps, it might not be a dream after all.

They meet up with Kun at a nearby teahouse the next morning, who greet them with their customary morning cups of tea and breakfast. Dejun half wonders where Kun finds all of the funds to treat them so often, but Kunhang tells him there are rumours of Kun being some rich heir to the Feiyun Commerce Guild. Dejun doesn’t believe him, because what rich heir would prance off to work as a consultant for a _funeral_ _parlour_?

Kun throws them a cheeky grin and wiggles his eyebrows as the trio shows up, a sure sign that Yukhei has already started blabbering to the entire harbour on his morning commission collection route. Dejun rolls his eyes as he settles into one of the seats, grabbing one of the teacups nearby to down. He’s nowhere near awake enough for this.

“So,” Kun asks, a hint of restrained excitement in his tone. “Who got the first makeout with innocent little Junnie over here.”

Dejun chokes on his tea at the same time as Yangyang cackles. Kunhang grins proudly, puffing out his chest and Dejun wonders if it’s too early to break up with someone.

Kun chuckles at his expense, scribbling something onto a small piece of paper on the table. Dejun peers over just in time to see Kun print Ten’s, Lucas’s and Sicheng’s names on the back. He whistles, and suddenly three songbirds dart into the open teahouse, dodging steam as they fly over to Kun. He hands them the pieces of paper with a grin, and Dejun makes a mental note to avoid Ten for the next three weeks.

“You look like one of those princesses in the fairy tales,” Yangyang deadpans, digging his spoon into his morning ice cream. Kun scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Messenger birds are just useful,” Kun argues. “That doesn’t make me one of those characters the kids dress up as every fall.”

Kunhang gives him an unimpressed look. “That’s what a fairy tale princess would say.”

Kun smacks him on the back.

Conversation flows easily after that, returning to their favourite topic of discussing how useless the Liyue Qixing is at finding culprits in its own city. There have been rumours floating around that they’re even dealing with a sudden return of Adepti from Juyeun Karst. Apparently, they’ve caught word of Rex Lapis’ death and want to simply destroy Liyue as it is to get rid of all of the mortals, murderers and innocents alike.

“For what?” Dejun frowns, confused. “Aren’t they supposed to be some kind of guardian for Liyue?”

Kun purses his lips. “The Adepti made their contract with Rex Lapis, the first contract to ever be made, to protect Liyue the nation. It would seem that over the millennia, and as mortals have grown more self-sufficient and Adepti more withdrawn, the Adepti have started to think of Liyue as the land, as opposed to its citizens,” Kun tries to explain. Dejun raises an eyebrow at his choice of words, but ultimately doesn’t comment on it. Kun likes to talk in old fashioned.

“But that’s ridiculous!” Kunhang argues, wrinkling his nose. “We’ve done nothing wrong to them!”

Kun nods grimly. “That’s precisely it. There used to be dozens of Adepti, maybe even reaching hundreds, almost all revered and beloved throughout Liyue. But as time went on, people forgot about them. Their shrines became abandoned. Offerings stopped. Adepti were forgotten,” Kun explains. “Nowadays, most people only really remember four Adepti: Rex Lapis himself and the Gods of Battle, Health and Family.”

Yangyang makes a sad sound. “Poor Adepti,” Yangyang frowns. “They’d probably even die forgotten.”

Kun nods solemnly. “It’s why the Rite of Passing is so important,” Kun wraps up. “We’re honouring the Adepti who have passed away in service of Liyue. Rex Lapis may be our most treasured Adeptus, but too often do people forget about all of the other Adepti.”

There’s a bitter tone to his words, Dejun thinks, one that can only come from someone with very strong opinions on the Adepti. He wonders if Kun has a personal history with one.

“Well, we should get going then,” Kunhang pipes up, ever the expert at wrapping things up. “We’ll just have to give the best Rite of passing Liyue’s ever seen, to make up for every Adepti Liyue forgot.”

Kun smiles, an odd kind of gratitude to his eyes as he sets down his teacup. “Let’s go then.”

They make the arduous trek to Dihua Marsh that day, spending nearly half of the way to reach the home of the Glaze Lilies, which Kun says to be the last material they need. The Millieth had initially given them odd looks and was hesitant to let four whole people out of the city, one of which being a notorious criminal. Kun had waved them all off with a sheet of paper that bears the Tianquan’s signature. Dejun later found out the paper was actually an old tax return, but the Millieth seemed too terrified of four-armed Vision holders to take a closer look.

They arrive at Dihua Marsh when the sun is high over their heads, hot and stuffy with the humid air of the swamp. The scent of Glaze Lilies is intoxicating, carrying with it a deeply nostalgic smell. Kun tells him Glaze Lilies are a flower of the past, blooming with the memory of a Liyue now passed. It’s the sort of parting gift suited for an Adeptus, who’s lived millennia and witnessed lifetimes of changes to the Liyuean landscape.

“They say the flowers would only bloom when it hears the sound of beautiful music,” Kun continues to rattle off. Yangyang and Kunhang trail behind them, playing with a frog and Dejun can’t help but giggle at them trying to grasp onto a slimy animal. Kun turns around at the sound, somewhat offended no one’s listening.

“What am I?” Kun asks, mock hurt in his tone. “Your convenient alibi whose only purpose is to pay for your meals and dispense useless pieces of trivia?”

Yangyang grins at him. “Sounds about right!” he teases back. Kun rolls his eyes, somehow not hurt. Dejun has a feeling this is an ongoing joke.

“Isn’t that a Glaze Lily?” Dejun asks, steering the conversation away for Kun’s sake as he points to a small clump of flowers near the river. Kun whips his head towards Dejun’s gestured location, nodding slightly.

“Yes, this is it.” Kun smiles as he leans down to inspect the flowers’ white and blue petals. “Now, can you sing, Dejun?” Kun asks. Dejun stops in his tracks, suddenly embarrassed. Singing… he hasn’t done that properly in a while.

“I used to take lessons back in Fontaine,” Dejun shrugs. “Wanted to become a singer when I was little.”

Kunhang and Yangyang snap to attention, suddenly interested in Kun and Dejun’s conversations. Dejun resists the urge to roll his eyes at their selective attention.

“Then I’ll teach you this old Liyuean lullaby,” Kun decides, reaching into his travel pack and pulling out a soft, leather-bound book that seems to have aged for centuries. “The melody is simple, and the lyrics just follow this poem here.”

Dejun hums, reading up the words on Kun’s notebook. On first read, it seems the poem is talking about some kind of comforting ode. The title ‘Good Night, Liyue’ is scribbled at the top of the page in neat cursive, a small flower doodles onto the bottom of the page. If Dejun peers closer, he can almost make out how the words are written to resemble two small cats intertwined at the foot of the page, like a pair of feline lovers.

“ _Good night, poor worn full of work, and rest your weary soul,_ ” Kun begins to sing, his voice light and airy. “ _And let me close your eyes from this busy world._ ”

“ _Forget the day’s worries and troubles, just take my hand. Because rest will come for those who love this land,_ ” Kun continues, gesturing at Dejun that the melody is going to loop. Dejun nods, one eye trained on the page.

“ _May your dreams be blessed with warmth and comfort, like a mother’s embrace. May your nightmares never come, let my song lead their chase,_ ” Dejun sings hesitantly. He’s always been told he’s got a deeper voice when he sings, thicker and fuller than what the Fontaine choir leaders would like. He’s grown to hate singing as a result.

And yet, with the way Kunhang and Yangyang are gaping at him like he sounds like the most beautiful thing they’ve ever heard, a trickle of confidence slips into the back of Dejun’s mind. Even Kun’s pleasant surprise contributes to the trickle of confidence, letting Dejun hold his head a little higher.

“ _And if you wander off too far from reality,_ ” Dejun continues, turning to Kun as he finds Kun switching to a higher register. He’s harmonizing, Dejun realizes. Their voices mix well.

“ _Just open your eyes, and you’ll be right back here with me,_ ” they finish, holding onto the last note for a moment longer as Dejun feels an odd flutter in his chest. He never thought old memories from that cursed place of his childhood would ever become positive, the hobbies he used to enjoy forever remaining a scar from the past. And yet… rekindling them with the presence of new friends brings a different kind of feeling now. A brighter one. A happier one.

Silence falls over them like a comfortable blanket, cool despite the hot and humid air. Kun gestures at the flowers, breaking Dejun out of his trance. He blinks, glancing down to find a spread of beautiful Glaze Lilies in full bloom, all yearning into the sky to feel the sun. Suddenly, a light bulb goes off in his head, and Dejun leans down to pluck two of the larger flowers.

Turning around, Dejun finds Yangyang immediately, standing slightly off to the side. He cocks his head in confusion as Dejun approaches him, gently holding the flowers between two fingers. Dejun eyes the silver barrette in Yangyang’s hair that holds his Anemo Vision, mentally noting the space under it as he reaches up and threads the flowers under Yangyang’s Vision. Yangyang doesn’t so much as flinch as he does it, only smiling shyly as Dejun’s fingers linger on his hair for a little longer to feel the soft strands.

“There,” Dejun breathes, satisfied with his work as Yangyang’s cheekbones dust pink. He resembles a fairy of sorts, pretty and delicate under the sunlight that doesn’t quite shine as brightly as he does.

Their moment is interrupted when a loud, dramatic gasp rises from the other side. Dejun swivels his head to find Kunhang faking a faint and draping himself all over a begrudging Kun, one wrist pressed against his forehead and another clutching his chest.

“Look at my baby,” Kunhang sniffles, all dramatics. “All grown up. He’s even _flirting_ now.”

“I’m older than you,” Dejun deadpans, narrowing his eyes. “By more than a month.”

Kunhang waves him off, still engrossed in his dramatics. Dejun considers the possibility of breaking up with his boyfriend within 24 hours of getting together.

“I can’t believe you’re also cheesy,” Yangyang sighs, hand coming up gently to touch the flower. “I’m dating _two_ helpless romantics.”

Dejun opens his mouth, about to bite back when a sudden branch snaps echoes loudly through the air. Everyone flinches, suddenly tensing up into battle stances as they whip their heads around. Dejun scans his part of the marsh, seeing not even a hint of movement.

“Who’s there?” Kun yells, drawing his catalyst as Hydro energy swirls around them. Dejun chews on his bottom lip. They had anticipated more attacks with all of the Millieth guards nearby all being recalled to Liyue to help with investigations and the possible threat of the Adepti, but Dihua Marsh is much too secluded for a Treasure Hoarder camp.

Suddenly, Kunhang reacts, firing off a bolt of Electro in a random direction. Dejun whirls his head towards the direction of the bolt, catching it just in time as a thick Dendro vine shoots out of the ground to block it. Dejun gathers Pyro in his palm, about to attack when a loud shout echoes through the Marsh.

“Wait! I’m not here to attack you!” the voice cries. Dejun hesitates, held back by the sincerity of his tone. The figure stumbles in, resembling a tattered, beaten soldier who just returned from the front lines of a war, the Dendro Vision on his scarf stained with a spot of blood. Kun immediately jumps to action, running over to help the poor guy before he falls. He looks barely older than Chenle, probably still a teenager.

“Who are you?” Yangyang asks, sheathing his weapon. “And what are you doing here?”

The boy squeezes his eye shut as he winces, hand coming up to grip at his side, which is bleeding and an ugly shade of purple. Kun curses softly under his breath, manipulating his Hydro over the wound and starting to heal it. The boy winces at the contact, but his shoulders seem to relax ever so slightly.

“M-my name is Sungchan,” the boy says shakily. “And the Tianquan sent me. H-he requests your presence at the Jade Chamber,” Sungchan continues, pointing a wobbling finger at Dejun. Dejun freezes.

“What happened?” Kun asks gently, applying pressure to the wound as he digs around his pack for a roll of bandages. Sungchan winces.

“The Fatui have the city surrounded, and I barely got past them,” Sungchan gasps in pain. “T-Taeyong said I needed to get you to him _now_ because the Adepti refuse to defend Liyue unless we have a culprit for the murder of the Geo Archon.”

Dejun tenses up, blood draining out of his face. The murderer. The one he hasn’t caught. Sungchan catches the look, face falling immediately.

“You don’t know who it is, do you?” Sungchan whispers, voice losing all of its energy. Dejun purses his lips, shaking his head gently. Sungchan squeezes his eyes shut, rolling his head onto Kun’s shoulder as the bandages finally stop his bleeding. Kun looks up at Dejun, gaze ice-cold.

“Get to the Jade Chamber and stall,” Kun orders. “Keep the Adepti civil for as long as you can. Yangyang can drop Dejun off at the chamber, but then go immediately to find Ten and Sicheng. They’ll probably have known what’s happening, but just get them to the Jade Chamber as soon as possible. I will be right on your tail.”

Yangyang and Kunhang nod, already ready to shoot up. Dejun frowns, holding his hands up.

“Wait, hold on. How do you expect to calm dozens of murderous gods with three people and no culprit?” Dejun argues. “You’re not, like, god or anything, right?”

Kun’s small smile is mysterious. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about Liyue, Dejun,” Kun replies. “Now go. I promise I’ll explain everything after.”

Dejun arrives at the Jade Chamber in a total of three seconds, despite the three-hour journey it takes to get from Liyue to Dihua Marsh. Yangyang says even the winds seem to be cooperative today, the hint of a coming storm on their backs as he blows Dejun towards the Jade Chamber. They split off halfway to Dejun’s destination, Kunhang yelling good luck to Dejun before dropping down to Liyue Harbour to get Ten and Sicheng.

Dejun nearly face plants on the Tianquan’s golden doormat, tucking into a roll at the last possible moment as he unceremoniously crashes into a nearby potted plant. The entire group of people, gods and vaguely terrifying animals all turn to him. A nearby Millieth moves to attack Dejun, yelling something about an intruder.

“Stop!” someone yells, holding the guards back. “Do not attack!”

Dejun looks up, trying to ignore the mild pain in his head as he makes out the Tianquan of Liyue, Taeyong, and the other member of the Qixing who hired him, Doyoung. Next to them are five other fancily-dressed humans, presumably members of the Liyue Qixing. Only two of them wear a vision, which numbers five mortals against what Dejun counts to be at least two dozen Adepti. Fighting is _not_ an option, it would seem.

“Investigator Xiaojun,” The Tianquan—Taeyong—begins. “I hope you bring good news.”

Dejun gulps, ready to break it to him. He racks his brain, trying to pull together a last-minute mismatch of evidence and thoughts. It can’t be a mortal, for no one, even a Vision holder, could kill a god. Considering the Adepti’s presence in front of them, it can’t be one of them either. Who would be powerful enough to kill a _god_ , yet not bear any mystical connection to Liyue?

The colour drains out of Dejun’s face.

“It’s a Fatui Harbinger,” Dejun guesses, trying to slowly connect the pieces together. “One who uses Geo.”

Doyoung frowns. “The only Harbinger we know of in the emissary fleet is Seulgi, and she uses Electro,” Doyoung points out, voice venomous at the topic of the Fatui. Dejun shakes his head.

“The Fatui moves in the shadows,” Dejun argues, knowing he doesn’t have much of a solid case. But it’s as Kun said. He just needs to stall right now. “They can easily slip in and out of the city unnoticed. And look now, they’ve got the whole city surrounded.”

Taeyong scowls. “But they’re demanding we reveal the Geo Archon’s Exuvia to show the world he’s really dead. If they killed him, won’t they already know?” Taeyong points out. A sudden wave of agreement ripples throughout the Adepti and Qixing alike, sending shivers down Dejun’s spine. 

He’s had to talk in front of Gods before, appealing before the Hydro Archon back in the courtrooms of Fontaine in his earlier days. He can take this crowd.

“You hid the Exuvia to take back the initiative,” Dejun begins, voice surprisingly calm as he addresses the Qixing. “Sealing off all exits to the city in order to prevent the murderer from slipping through. But the Fatui can too easily slip past in the cover of darkness, and you know it.”

One of the Adepti, a giant stag with horns that resembles the moon, stomps on the ground. “The Liyue Qixing is incompetent, as one has guessed,” he booms, all imposing. “Unable to even keep a criminal in their hands. Mortal affairs have reached a new height of arrogance for thinking they can control themselves. It’s time you are vanquished!”

A loud cheer rumbles throughout the Adepti. Dejun’s eyes widen. That was not the intended effect.

“No, you don’t understand!” Dejun cries, trying to keep the peace. “The Fatui aren’t just ordinary mortals. Their Delusions are elevated by the Cryo Archon herself, who has the power to—”

“Still mortal!” Another Adeptus chimes in, this one resembling a white crane. Another ripple of agreement passes, some of the Adepti gearing up to slaughter a city. Dejun gulps. He has to choose his next words very carefully.

“You signed a contract three thousand and seven hundred years ago,” Dejun shouts, glaring at the Adepti. “To protect Liyue. And yet, in its time of need, you decide to destroy it?!”

The stag Adeptus freezes for a moment, taken aback by Dejun’s outburst before it stomps its hoof on the ground again.

“You dare question the judgement of a god?!” the Adeptus bellows. Dejun stands firm, holding his head high.

“I will challenge anyone and anything who wishes to destroy everything I love,” Dejun retorts, standing his ground. Even the Qixing look at him in mild respect, parting ways for Dejun to march towards the de facto leader of the Adeptus.

“You mortals have no idea how to govern a city, much less find justice for a god!” the Adeptus roars.

“I hold more love and look out more for this city than you ever have, Adeptus. Because unlike you, I don’t turn my back on the citizens when they no longer choose to kiss up my ass!” Dejun challenges.

Silence.

The Adeptus growls, ready to pounce when the sudden sound of slow, drawn-out clapping cuts through the silence. Dejun turns to the side to find Kun striding up to the Jade Chamber, Ten and Sicheng on his flank. He’s about to get worried at the lack of Kunhang and Yangyang before he catches sight of Yangyang floating a little further away. They’re keeping a safe distance. Smart.

“A speech worthy of the legends, Xiaojun,” Kun begins, smiling slightly. There’s an odd glow to him, resembling the Adeptal energy around the Adepti. Ten and Sicheng are glowing too, in a similar fashion. Dejun frowns, confused.

“Kun,” the stag Adeptus growls. “So you have finally decided to show up. Have you finally decided to leave the mortal weaklings?”

Kun’s smile doesn’t waver as he opens his mouth to scoff, light laughter following him as goosebumps run up Dejun’s arms. He’s buddy-buddy with an Adeptus. The plethora of funding and knowledge he has. How Kun manages to strut around Liyue like he owns the whole city.

 _There are a lot of things you don’t know about Liyue, Dejun_.

Kun’s an Adeptus. And so are Ten and Sicheng. They’re the last Adepti left in Liyue’s defence.

“You talk a lot about the good of Liyue for someone who hasn’t stepped foot in the harbour in the last two Millennia, Moon Carver,” Kun announces loudly. “Surely even you can realize that the humans have flourished even without our meddling in their every little affair.”

The stag—Moon Carver, presumably—steps towards Kun, pointing its antlers at him as it leans down to match his height. “So you have chosen your side,” Moon Carver hisses. Kun nods.

“And you have chosen yours,” Kun agrees. “Our contract was created by Rex Lapis, who has now passed. If you wish to break it now, no one will fault you, Adeptus. But just know this: You’ve left Liyue to die because you were too much of a coward to accept that the mortals have moved on.”

Moon Carver narrows its eyes, stepping back as it turns to the rest of the Adepti. “Do you hear this, brethren? The traitor calls us cowards!” Moon Carver laughs. “He chooses the side with the mortals! Hah!”

No one laughs.

Moon Carver frowns. “What is the matter?” Moon Carver questions. “Surely you have not been swayed by his and the mortal’s words.”

No one replies. Kun smiles, stepping in front of Moon Carver to address the Adepti. Dejun feels a chill run down his back. Kun just completely took control.

Kun turns to the Liyue Qixing, who’s been silent this entire time. He offers his hand to Taeyong, who only startles into action now. He steps across the way to take Kun’s hand, shaking it lightly. Kun nods, pleased as he turns to the Adepti.

“Let this be your final decision in the contract between Adepti and Liyue,” Kun announces. “Do you choose to return to Juyuen Karst to live out the remainder of your lives, or do you stand with us and quell the Fatui threat before us?! Do you choose to die with the old Geo Archon, or will you rise to defend his beloved city?!”

Ten is the first to step forwards, raising his hand. “I will stand with Liyue!” he shouts. Sicheng follows suit, raising his hand as well. Dejun watches in mild awe as most of the Adepti raise their various appendages, from wing to hooves to hands.

“I will stand with Liyue!” they all chorus. Moon Carver’s face falls as the Adeptal energy soars into the sky, forming Liyue’s crest as it stamps onto the air, solidifying a new contract. A contract to last into the new age of Liyue.

A contract to end all contracts.

“And thus, it begins,” Sicheng whispers, barely audible to anyone but Dejun, who’s right next to him.

Suddenly, a loud boom echoes across the sky, practically splitting the sky in half as a massive strike of lightning smashes into the ocean beyond Liyue Harbour. Dejun flinches, whipping his head towards it. A bolt of Electro flies towards them, too fast for the human eye to even catch. A spike of Cryo rises out of the ground, coming from Sicheng as he blocks the attack.

“The Fatui!” someone yells. Dejun grits his teeth, watching as number six of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers step out from a portal in the sky. Seulgi laughs, a glint of malicious intent in her eyes.

“And so you’ve chosen to stand with Liyue,” Seulgi muses. “What a sappy bunch of bullshit.”

Taeyong steps in front of everyone, straight towards Seulgi as his sword floats out of its sheath by his side. “You’re taking a dangerous gamble here, Harbinger,” Taeyong hisses. “We _will_ banish the Fatui from this land.”

Seulgi smiles, not a hint of concern on her face. “Oh darling, we no longer care about Liyue. Your Archon is dead. This city holds no value to the Fatui anymore. It’s a shame we’ll have to do the destroying instead of our Adepti friends here.”

Kun narrows his gaze. “Begone, Harbinger,” he warns. “Or you will face the wrath of the Adepti. Surely even a Harbinger would not be foolish enough to fight dozens of Gods.”

Seulgi just laughs, raising her hand into the sky. Electro ripples from her body, amplified by the strange symbols floating around her. Dejun sucks in a breath, watching helplessly as the Electro ripples through the sky and strikes the Ocean again. This time, the sky darkens, a massive storm brewing as the oceans start to rage.

Dejun’s mouth opens as he watches massive blue tendrils rise out of the sea, resembling a giant tentacle monster as it crawls out of the water. He’s seen that before, engraved in the old ruins of Liyue.

“Oslai,” Sicheng breathes, voice icy cold. “Lord of the Vortex. The Geo Archon’s most powerful enemy.”

Seulgi’s eye glistens. “Let’s see your god try to save you now!” she yells, disappearing again. Dejun catches her out of the corner of his eyes, where she’s zipping away to escape. Before Seulgi can get far, a blast of Anemo slams into her, knocking Seulgi slightly off course. Before he can even let the confusion settle in, Dejun finds Kunhang and Yangyang flying after Seulgi, blasts of Electro and Anemo flying everywhere. He whips his head back to Oslai, conflicted.

“Millieth, Qixing,” Taeyong bellows. “To Liyue! We need to evacuate the city, now!”

Taeyong whirls to Kun, nodding as a silent agreement passes between them. Kun draws his catalyst, Hydro floating around him as he glares at the Lord of the Vortex.

“Adepti!” Kun yells. “To Oslai! Honour your contract! We will _not_ let him dare to even touch Liyue again!”

The Adepti roars in agreement, all leaping off of the Jade Chamber towards Oslai. Kun and Sicheng shoot off along with them, too fast for any human to keep up with. Ten hesitates, hanging behind for just a moment as he turns to Dejun.

“Go,” Ten orders. “Don’t let the harbinger escape. Kunhang and Yangyang won’t be able to match her without a Delusion.”

Dejun’s eyes widen. He hasn't told Ten about his Delusion. “How did you—” Dejun begins, faltering as Ten winks.

“I’m a god, remember?” Ten points out. “Now go! They need you!”

Dejun doesn’t need to be told again.

“Pest!” Seulgi yells, thrusting her palm at a zipping Yangyang as a large web of Electro flies at him. Kunhang leaps to his rescue, redirecting the Electro with his own as they collide and explode in mid-air. The trio are still falling, barely slowed down by Yangyang’s Anemo cushion. He’s getting tired, Dejun notes, diving down after them. Keeping up the cushion is taking it out of him.

“Whatever, Fatui Lady!” Kunhang yells, leaping forwards on account of the winds as he jabs his sword at Seulgi. Seulgi twists out of the way, tossing an Electro Crystal in the air as she supercharges herself, ready to attack.

Dejun grits his teeth, trying to make himself fall faster. He extends out his palm, gathering Pyro Energy through his catalyst and focuses on the crystal. Just a little bit of Pyro and Electro, to trigger one of the most dangerous Elemental Reactions and—

_Boom!_

Overload.

Seulgi yells, disoriented from the force of the blast as she’s spent spiralling down much faster than before. The blast also seems to have punched a hole through Yangyang’s wind cushion, making everyone start to tumble towards the ground. Seulgi draws out her blade, a thin, decorated blade that resembles a rapier as her eyes grow violet. She twists, slamming herself onto the paved streets of Liyue down below as a massive burst of Electro absorbs the shock of the fall.

Turning back to her attackers, Seulgi waves her sword through the air, summoning a barrage of Electro missiles, sending them flying into the air.

“Watch out!” Kunhang yells, slashing his own sword in a wide arc as the missiles shoot towards them. Electro fills the air, the stench of sizzling air filling Dejun’s nose with smoke. He coughs, momentarily losing his balance as he tumbles towards a nearby roof.

Yangyang grabs onto his wrist at the last moment, Anemo vision glowing bright green as he brings them downwards fast. The Anemo cushion absorbs all of the impacts of the landing, but Dejun can see the effort taking Yangyang out of it. Yangyang staggers into Dejun, squeezing his eyes shut out of dizziness.

“Don’t overexert yourself,” Dejun chides. “You’ve been flying all day. Rest for a second.”

“But the Harbinger—” Yangyang begins, cut off by the sound of his own coughing. Dejun chews his bottom lip. There’s a saying about Anemo users, how the God of Freedom only grants his gift of Anemo to people who are willing to spend and waste their lives away for the service and freedom of others. Yangyang embodies it well, Dejun thinks bitterly, forcing his boyfriend to sit on the rooftop.

“Sit,” Dejun orders. “Three minutes. If you don’t feel dizzy, you can join.”

The protest dies in Yangyang’s throat, nodding solemnly. Dejun presses a soft kiss onto Yangyang’s forehead, sending him one last sympathetic smile before running off towards the direction of the Electro explosions.

A flying Electro crystal flies at Dejun, narrowly missing his shoulder as he twists to dodge it. Dejun whips his head to the street, where Kunhang and Seulgi are squaring off. Kunhang is flying around at blinding speed, fading into the Electro-singed air as Seulgi parries his every strike with equal speed. Dejun locks his jaw, trying to analyze the situation.

Seulgi has a Delusion, and she’s damned good with it too. No matter how much they try to chip away at her exhaustion, a Fatui Harbinger has far superior physical capabilities. And if they give her enough time to gather Electro like she did earlier and change into her Foul Legacy form… 

No, they can’t let the Harbinger shift into her final form. Seulgi would be undefeatable.

Dejun leaps off of the rooftop, gathering as much Pyro as he can possibly muster and tosses it at Seulgi, triggering Overload as the entire scene explodes. Seulgi shouts, frustrated that her transformation got interrupted again as Kunhang barely zips out of the way, landing next to Dejun in a ready stance.

“You little parasites just don’t give up, do you?!” Seulgi bellows, splitting her Electro-infused sword into twin daggers as she charges forwards. Kunhang leaps in to take the attack, blocking Seulgi’s attack as the force of their blades meeting sends a huge ripple of Electro into the air. Seulgi spins around, kicking her legs in a wide arc as she nearly gets close to stabbing Kunhang with her stiletto.

Kunhang leans backwards, narrowly dodging Seulgi as he kicks one leg up. He’s less acrobatic than Yangyang, but his speed and swordsmanship certainly make up for it. Seulgi parries his leg with her arm, sliding to the side as she swings her rapier in a short arc at Kunhang again.

Dejun flinches into action, willing his catalyst to jump between Seulgi’s blade and Kunhang as he leaps forwards. Seulgi growls, gathering electro in her palm as she thrusts it at Dejun, two large crab-like claws threatening to capture him.

Dejun ducks out of the attack, swinging his leg on the ground to knock Seulgi over. He even sets his own leg on fire for the sweep, letting the Pyro react to Seulgi’s Electro as the explosion knocks them both off-kilter. Seulgi rights in mere milliseconds, charging back at Dejun once again before Kunhang parries her with his sword.

They go back and forth like that for the next few minutes, Kunhang and Dejun taking turns to chip away at Seulgi. In a small combined attack, Kunhang and Dejun manage to pull off a particularly focused blast of Overload to knock Seulgi away, finally making the Harbinger lose her footing.

“This ends here!” Seulgi yells, grabbing an Electro crystal out of her pocket as she jams it into her arm. Dejun flinches, eyes growing wide in terror as he watches the Electro consume Seulgi’s body, forming a layer of thick, dark, robotic armour. Thick black wings sprout from her back, resembling that of a dragonfly as Electro burns the air.

Seulgi’s Foul Legacy. The power of the number six out of eleven of the Fatui Harbingers.

“Shit,” Dejun mutters. This isn’t good.

“You’re nothing but pests!” Seulgi spits, her voice three times deeper with the aid of her mask. Electro gathers around her body again, poised and ready to strike. Dejun can’t even move his body.

Seulgi holds her sword towards them, charging forwards with a speed that only a Harbinger and a god could harbour. In less than a blink of an eye, Seulgi slashes her sword at Kunhang and Dejun, sending a wave of Electro at them, unblockable until—

_Swoosh!_

Dejun widens his eyes in shock, watching as Seulgi’s momentum is interrupted, held back by a massive hurricane-level gale. Dejun whips his head around to find Yangyang, who's positively glowing now.

“And you’re just annoying!” Yangyang yells back, exploding forwards with the force of a storm. Seulgi growls, striking back at him as Yangyang flips out of the way of her sword. He draws his Bo staff, swinging it wildly to parry Seulgi’s oncoming attacks. He manages to jump onto Seulgi’s wings, smacking the staff into her extra appendages as the Anemo reacts with the Electro, Swirl causing the Electro to spread all over the street.

Dejun takes the opportunity immediately, jumping forwards to light up the entire cobblestone street in Pyro as Overload triggers, exploding everything in sight. Kunhang is right on his tail, joining Yangyang as they tag team Seulgi, moving at incredible speed.

“Enough!” Seulgi roars after a few more minutes. Slamming her blade into the ground as a massive shockwave ripples through the air, knocking everyone off of their feet. Dejun slams into a nearby abandoned stall, feeling the wood dig against his back as pain explodes in his vision.

As Dejun’s vision slowly refocuses, the pounding headache in his head dying down enough for him to open his eyes, he finds Seulgi now back in human form, sword held by her side. He’s approaching Yangyang, who’s coughing out blood as he tries to push himself up onto his elbows. His entire body is shaking, blood oozing from his shoulder from a nasty scrape with the cobblestone stone ground.

“So you’re the little thief who dared steal from the Fatui,” Seulgi drawls, making a tsk-ing sound with her teeth. Yangyang shudders, looking up to stare daggers into Seulgi.

“Better a thief,” Yangyang spits. “Than a murderous parasite.”

Seulgi growls, grabbing Yangyang by the neck as she holds him up, feet dangling in the air as Yangyang gasps, struggling to breathe. Dejun wants to run. Wants to barrel at Seulgi and tear her hands off of Yangyang and make her pay for trying to touch him. But the pain in his head is harsh, throbbing and overwhelming as Dejun tries to keep his eyes open. The whispers in his head grow restless by the second, amplified from his Delusion.

_Let us take over._

_Kill her._

_Let us kill her_.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Seulgi bites, all venom in her tone. “The fatui will not let your crime go unpunished.”

Then, she stabs her sword into Yangyang’s guts, drawing a guttural scream of pain from him.

No.

No, no, no, no, no!

The colour drains out of Dejun’s face as he watches Seulgi let go of Yangyang, his body falling limp onto the floor as he slumps over, the blade sticking out of his back before Seulgi pulls it out. Blood oozes onto the ground, colouring the cobblestone a horrifying shade of red as Yangyang lies there, unmoving.

Yangyang, the beautiful ray of sunshine that crashed into Dejun’s life and pulled him out of his self-pity to finally see the world for what it should be. Yangyang, the boy who feels like the summer wind on Dejun’s back as he leads him down the dark tunnel of finding friends, holding onto Dejun’s hand every step of the way.

Yangyang, the boy who taught Dejun how to love.

And now, to lose one that you love.

The blood roars in Dejun’s ears, his Delusion glowing bright red and hot.

 _Let us achieve revenge_.

And this time, Dejun lets the whispers take over.

A surge of energy surges into Dejun’s tired limbs, the headache disappearing instantly. Dejun launches to his feet, Pyro licking the side of his face as Dejun takes a staggering step forwards. His entire body must be nothing but fire now, but he doesn’t care.

He needs to get to Yangyang. Needs to kill Seulgi. Needs to end her massacre.

The scene blurs in Dejun’s vision, his head cloudy and spinning at a million miles per hour as he leaps forwards. He doesn’t know how Seulgi reacts, doesn’t know how he himself is moving, only tasting the fire burning on his tongue and feeling the flames consume his entire body.

He won’t let Seulgi get away with this. He won’t let her murder someone he loves in cold blood and walk away freely.

Dejun comes back to reality after a few more seconds, his vision clearing just enough to find himself hovering over Seulgi, her own blade in his hand and stabbed through her chest. Her eyes are frozen, pupils unfocused as the fire starts to burn on her skin. Dejun blanches, dropping down to his knees as his grip on the sword weakens, making him fall to the side.

Reality crashes into him, and Dejun is left to drown in an ocean of despair. He’s had to fight and kill his fair share of people, as a high ranking adventurer in a land where one either kills or gets killed, so the feeling of blood on his hands is no stranger to Dejun than water to a fish. No, it’s not the shock that’s seizing his body.

“I killed a Harbinger,” Dejun mutters, eyes squeezing shut. He killed a Fatui Harbinger. The Fatui are going to hunt him down for the rest of his days. He’s totalled. Completely done for. All because—

Yangyang.

Dejun scrambles to his feet, shoving the thought of his impending doom to a different corner of his brain as he tries to find Yangyang again. Kunhang is hovering over Yangyang, trying to apply emergency aid to him and whispering gentle words under his breath. Dejun runs over, dropping to his knees as he finally takes a closer look at Yangyang.

It’s bad. His entire torso is crimson, blood soaking through the fabric of his shirt as his eyes slowly lose focus. His shoulders, arms and legs are also bleeding from the scrapes and gashes he got during the initial attacks. The Anemo vision is a dim green, an indication that Yangyang’s life force is at an all-time low.

“Hang in there, Yangie. It’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll get out of here, alive,” Kunhang mutters, pulling out a small flask from his pack. Disinfect from the pharmacy, Dejun assumes.

“Junnie?” Yangyang calls out, voice small and weak. “K-Kunhang said y-you took care of her.”

Dejun nods, trying to squeeze his hand and give Yangyang some comfort. Hot tears prick at the corner of his eyes as Dejun’s voice betrays him. He can’t even open his mouth, afraid he’ll break at any moment.

“D-do you think I’ll make it?” Yangyang croaks, voice impossibly weak. Dejun can’t help the teardrop that rolls down his cheek. Kunhang’s managed to clean off most of the wound, applying some kind of herbal gunk over Yangyang’s wound. The magic of the leaves work instantly, slowly knitting the open skin back together and Dejun dares to hope.

“You’ll be fine,” Dejun says shakily, more to reassure himself than Yangyang. “You’ll be fine,” he repeats.

He has to be. Yangyang has to be fine. Dejun can’t accept any other option.

“Close your eyes, Yangie,” Kunhang whispers, soft and gentle. His voice quivers with emotion, and Dejun feels himself unravel even further. “You need to rest.”

Yangyang’s pretty doe eyes unfocus, slowly drifting close. “Rest,” he mumbles. “Junnie, could you… sing that song for me? The one you s-sung today. Back at the Marsh.”

Dejun nods, digging into his brain to find the lyrics as he opens his mouth, voice still shaky with tears.

“ _Good night, poor worn hands full of work, and rest your weary soul,_ ” Dejun begins, voice quivering. “ _And let me close your eyes from this busy world._ ”

“ _Forget the day’s worries and troubles, just take my hand,_ ” he continues, pressing the back of Yangyang’s cooling hand against his forehead to try and ground himself. “ _Because rest will come for those who love this land._ ”

“ _May your dreams be blessed with warmth and comfort, like a mother’s embrace,_ ” Dejun sings, feeling Kunhang’s hand reach over to grip his shoulder gently. “ _May your nightmares never come, let my song lead their chase._ ”

“ _And if you wander off too far from reality..._ ”

Yangyang’s eyes drift close, a happy smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“... _Just open your eyes, and you’ll be right back here with me,_ ” Dejun finishes, his voice nearly cracking as tears roll down his cheeks. Kunhang tangles their fingers together, looking teary-eyed himself.

“He’ll be okay,” Kunhang says reassuringly. “He knew the risks.”

Dejun nods shakily, knowing all too well the risks of adventuring. They signed up for this. They all knew the risks.

It doesn’t make it hurt less.

“Xiaojun? Dejun ge!” a voice yells, gently pulling Dejun away from his daze. He turns around to find Jisung and Chenle running towards them, waving their arms.

“What are you two doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be evacuating?” Kunhang yells, the only one with a stable voice between the two of them at this point. Jisung holds up the stretcher he’s carrying behind him.

“Taeyong—I mean, the Tianquan—told us to come back and help, since he said ‘you’ll surely be injured’,” Jisung yells back. “And he was right!”

Dejun thinks he can kiss that kid right here and now.

“How is he?” Chenle asks, running over to Yangyang. Dejun notices the Cryo vision hanging from his belt loop. Kunhang purses his lips.

“Unconscious, but still alive. He needs immediate medical help,” Kunhang explains in a rush as Dejun numbly nods along. Chenle nods, closing his eyes as his Cryo vision glows. A small army of tiny ice gnomes pops out of the ground, lifting Yangyang and carrying him onto the stretcher.

He’ll be okay, Dejun tells himself. Chenle’s got him. Yangyang’s going to make it out of this _alive_.

“Taeyong—I mean—”

Kunhang smiles gently. “It’s okay, I get who you’re talking about.” Dejun stares at him in mild awe. How can he be so… calm about this?

Then he notices it. The wet spot on Kunhang’s cheeks. The slight quiver in his tone. He’s not fine, but he’s doing a damn good job of hiding it. Dejun can’t keep breaking.

Jisung nods. “Taeyong said I should get whichever one of you who can to the Jade Chamber. They need help. The Adepti, they’re… not holding Oslai off.”

Dejun’s expression falls again. He thinks of Kun, Ten and Sicheng, who are waging war against a god far more powerful than themselves.

“We need to go,” Dejun mutters. “Now.”

To say the Adepti are losing would be an understatement.

“Ten!” Dejun yells, catching the attention of the Adeptus as he whips his head around, blocking off one of Oslai’s attacks. Ten’s eyes light up with recognition, leaping towards the floating Jade Chamber.

“Dejun, Kunhang,” Ten greets, before pausing. “Where’s Yangyang?”

Dejun waves in the general direction of the harbour. “Unconscious, but alive. He’ll be fine,” Dejun informs, quoting Kunhang. Ten nods, pursing his lips in mild worry.

“How the, uh, fight?” Dejun asks, despite knowing exactly what’s happening. Ten shakes his head.

“Not good. We’ve lost more than half of the Adepti, and Oslai is only growing in power. We need something to seal him off for good,” Ten sighs. “That Harbinger broke apart Rex Lapis’s seal many millennia ago. We can’t reuse it.”

Dejun purses his lips. “Does Kun have any ideas?” Dejun asks. Kun always seems to know what to do. Ten chews on his bottom lip.

“It’s… complicated. It’s better to show you,” Ten says mysteriously. He leads Kunhang and Dejun into the Jade Chamber while the battle rages behind them. By the time they reach the door, Oslai is roaring again, loud and guttural. Ten flinches, turning to the battle again, conflicted.

“Go,” Kunhang urges. “We can talk to Kun ourselves.”

Ten nods, running off to rejoin the battle. Dejun watches him run off for a few seconds, before turning back to the chamber’s interior… 

...finding Kun lying on the floor, a spear made of water stuck through his chest. Sicheng is by his side, freezing the part of the spear that’s actually inside of him as he slowly pulls it out, bit by bit. Kun’s expression is strangely calm, casually turning to Dejun.

“Hi,” Kun greets as if he was just greeting Dejun for their morning tea. Dejun splutters in disbelief.

“There is a spear in you,” Kunhang deadpans, shocked.

“That appears to be true,” Kun agrees. Dejun’s voice is still betraying him.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Kunhang asks, confused. Kun shrugs, shifting his chest slightly. Sicheng scowls, chiding him as he rests a palm onto Kun’s chest, Cryo magic blooming from his palm.

“Sicheng’s rather good at this, don’t worry about me,” Kun waves them off. “Where’s Yangyang?”

“Recovering,” Kunhang supplies. “What happened?”

Kun purses his lips. “We’ve lost too much Adepti,” Kun sighs, defeated. “We can’t fight back Oslai on our own. We need to seal him off before he can reach the harbour, but there’s nothing we can use.”

Dejun’s face falls. They can’t beat Oslai. Everything was for naught.

“Nothing the Adepti can use, but wasn’t it you who said ‘the humans have learnt to fend for themselves’?” a new voice comes in, drawing everyone’s attention. Dejun whirls around to find four of the Liyue Qixing standing in front of them, a small group of Vision holders behind them. Dejun recognizes most of them, from the Hydro archer who chased him way back on his first day in Liyue, Jungwoo, to the Millieth guard who apprehended Kunhang that same day, Shotaro. Even Sungchan, the kid Kun saved this afternoon, seems to be upright and ready to fight.

“Tianquan, glad you could come,” Kun greets casually again. Dejun can see one of the people in Taeyong’s group, a Millieth whose name tag reads ‘Jaemin’, gape at Kun in mild awe and terror. He _is_ rather creepy, just casually chatting with a spear in his chest.

“Liyue thank you for your service, Adeptus. But we can take over from here,” Taeyong smiles. “We have a way of sealing the lord of the Vortex.”

Kun raises an eyebrow. “Really?” Kun asks. “And just how do you plan on doing that?”

Taeyong gestures around him. “The Jade Chamber is my life’s work,” Taeyong begins. “I began constructing this floating palace ever since I was just a small merchant. Now, it’s able to cover Liyue Harbour entirely and house dozens of training facilities for our top Millieth and Qixing members. In terms of surface area and volume, it rivals the very same stone spears the Geo Archon used to seal away the lord of the vortex all those years.”

Kun hums, evidently impressed. “You wish to sacrifice the Jade Chamber?” Kun asks. “The fruit of an entire lifetime of work?”

Taeyong waves him off. “It is as you said. Land and structure are easily rebuilt. What matters is lives, and we won’t let more go in vain.”

Dejun regards the Tianquan with awe. He’s heard stories of Taeyong’s love for the Jade Chamber, the palace of the sky being a dream of his ever since he was a wee child. The Qixing had funnelled their wealth into the project, raising the chamber out of the ground and into the sky, where they watch over Liyue and its citizens. To sacrifice it would not only show the Qixing’s determination to honour their contract to the citizens of Liyue, but also their true ideologies. To save Liyue. To save the city they all love.

“Then I’ll recall the Adepti to form the seal,” Kun decides. At that moment, Sicheng’s grip tightens on the water spear, pulling it out cleanly as he freezes it entirely, discarding the weapon on the floor. He helps Kun stand up, who seems so casual and normal no one would be able to tell he was hurt if there wasn’t a hole where his chest should be. Dejun averts his gaze, trying not to throw up.

“We’ll need to defend the chamber as it comes into Oslai’s grasp,” Kun warns. “Do not look at the Lord of the Vortex directly. Your mind will be destroyed.”

“The Adepti will be too busy forming the seal to aid you, so we will have to rely on the Qixing and the Millieth to fight off Oslai’s attacks. I won’t lie to you, it’s unlikely we all make it out alive,” Kun continues. Everyone nods. They know the risks of standing here right now. Know the risks of charging towards the Lord of the Vortex.

“We’ll get you to where you need,” Taeyong promises. “If it’s the last thing we do. Oslai _will not_ take Liyue.”

Kun smiles, pleased. “Then let us begin.”

Dejun takes a deep breath, keeping his eyes locked onto the giant water tendrils of Oslai. If he looks any further down, he’ll catch the void, the very place Kun warns him not to look.

“Everyone, to your places!” Taeyong yells, urging the able-bodied fighters into position. There’s little more than a handful of them, numbering thirteen in total. They can hold, sure, but not for long.

Taeyong turns to Kun, nodding as he gives him the signal. Kun nods back, starting to glow as the Adepti around him close their eyes. A huge over influx of Adeptal energy surges into the air, swirling together as it surges towards Kun. Kun absorbs it all like a sponge, eyes flying open as they turn blinding white, surrounding the Jade Chamber in bright white light. Symbols start to draw in the air as Taeyong pushes the Jade Chamber forwards, activating its inner mechanisms.

Oslai roars in response, sending his tendrils towards the Jade Chamber. One of the other Qixing members, an intimidating looking Hydro swordsman Dejun learns to be Yuta, is the first to jump into action, the Millieth rallying behind him. They take on three of the tendrils, unable to hold off the biggest one in the middle.

“Come on,” Kunhang mutters under his breath, throwing a look at Dejun as he leaps off, flying towards the tendrils. Dejun nods, following suit as they leap out of the Jade Chamber’s protective barrier and into the battle.

Dejun blasts Pyro at the tendril, landing onto the limb itself momentarily to gain more momentum to push himself into the air. He turns to his right, where a small squad of four is fending off one of the tendrils. In the introduction rush earlier, Dejun can vaguely recognize Jisung, Donghyuck, Jaemin and Jeno in the group.

Jaemin tosses a ball of Cryo energy into the air, which Jisung smacks into with a giant burst of Anemo to use Swirl to spread the Cryo all along the water tendril. Jeno, the bulky, claymore-wielding Electro using Millieth swings his sword down onto the frozen tendrils, triggering Superconduct as the tendril erupts, shattering like an icicle. A piece falls towards Jisung, who’s struggling to keep himself afloat with his Anemo now that there’s a sudden new source of wind. Donghyuck pops out next to him, Pyro licking up the side of his arm as he heats the air, keeping them both afloat.

Dejun tears his eyes away to look to his right, finding Jungwoo raining down showers of Hydro arrows as Yuta physically tears part of the tendril off, dropping the water down to the sea below. The tentacle sweeps in a wide arc, threatening to slam right into the Jade chamber when a giant piece of Geo rises from seemingly nowhere, blocking off the attack. Dejun spots Doyoung in front of the Geo wall, holding back the wrath of a god with the sheer force of will.

“Watch out!” Kunhang yells, snapping Dejun out of his daze as he pushes him out of the way of their tendril. Dejun snaps back to attention, covering himself in Pyro as he’s saved from the impact for a moment. Oslai roars gutturally, not staggering for even a moment, and despair settles into Dejun’s bones.

“We can’t get through,” he mutters, realization slapping him like a ton of bricks. “We can’t get close enough.”

Kunhang purses his lips, grabbing onto Dejun’s hand as he pulls him closer. “We need to stagger him,” Kunhang realizes. “Something big enough to make him stop attacking for a moment.”

Dejun locks gaze with Kunhang, a silent agreement passing between them. Mentally, Dejun whispers a small apology for Yangyang, just in case.

“Remember what Kun said,” Dejun reminds him. “Don’t look into the vortex.”

Kunhang nods, and together, they jump off of the tendril.

Soaring down through the sky, Dejun tries to call on the whispers of the Delusion again, calling on every last squeeze of fire in his body. He starts to burn like a comet, tumbling towards the ground at a million miles per hour. He can hear the call of the Lord of the Vortex, trying to get him to open his eyes and fall victim to the vortex. Dejun persists, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushes the Pyro out of his body and into the air, drawing a massive trail of Pyro down the side of the god.

Moments later, he can hear the sizzling sound of Electro, thundering and chilling as it strikes, like a match along a trail of gunpowder as Overload occurs, exploding all along Oslai’s side. Dejun catches the god’s guttural wails of pain, finally making a dent and he knows that can’t stop now. They have to keep going. They need to buy Kun and the others more time.

Dejun’s eyes start to water again as he thinks of his friends up above. He thinks of Kun, the Adeptus who took the time to care for little old him amidst investigating a whole city. He thinks of Ten and Sicheng, new additions to his life yet such steady presences in Dejun’s mind at all times. He thinks of Yukhei, who’s probably mid-evacuation with the rest of Liyue, and wonders how his friend would react, knowing Kunhang and Dejun’s stupid plan. They don’t even have a way of getting up afterwards, solely relying on one of the Adepti being able to snatch them out of the water afterwards.

And then, he thinks of Yangyang. Sweet summer child Yangyang, who almost lost his life all too soon. Yangyang, who would break apart if he saw what Kunhang and Dejun were doing. Yangyang, who will probably hate him even if they make it out alive.

The buzz of overexertion hums low in Dejun’s head. Exhaustion seeping into his arms and he knows he can’t keep up this outburst of Pyro for much longer. The void is calling, and it wants to swallow Dejun whole.

Suddenly, a large object collides with Dejun’s side, smacking him like a ragdoll as he’s thrown away from Kunhang. A scream lodges in Dejun’s throat as the force of the motion forces his eyes open.

And the darkness that comes is nothing he could ever prepare for.

Visions start to fill Dejun’s head as he keeps on falling, out of Pyro to exert as the darkness swallows him whole. He can see a wasteland, the ashes of Liyue scattered in the wind as Dejun stands alone on a broken cobblestone street. Yangyang is standing in front of him, expression hard.

“You left me,” Yangyang whispers angrily. “Left me to die.”

Dejun opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Only a strong gale comes instead, knocking him off of his feet. Dejun yelps in silence, falling once again as he lands onto the cold, golden doormat of the Jade Chamber. He looks up, facing Kunhang this time.

“In the end, you couldn’t even protect those who matter to you,” Kunhang bites, and Dejun feels his head shattering. He wants to protest, wants to yell back that he hasn’t failed yet, but the words die in his throat as the scene shifts again.

He’s in a courtroom now, the very same place he used to dream of standing when he was little. In front of him is the God of Justice, the archon Dejun used to live to please.

“The court has deemed you guilty!” she bellows. “Puny mortal whose arrogance grows into incompetence!”

A golden spear falls from the ceiling, like an icy stalactite as it impales Dejun through his back, shattering everything he’s ever known.

 _You will die,_ a voice whispers, raspy and hoarse. _You will die unknown, unwanted, unloved._

Dejun closes his eyes again, trying to regain a semblance of composure. No, it’s just the vortex. Just the god trying to mess with him. It’s not real. It can’t be—

 _You will die alone_ , the voice finishes, and Dejun falls under.

_“Dejun? Dejun, wake up!” a voice calls for him, but Dejun can’t hear it, Can’t recognize it. Pain. All he can feel is pain. Utter overwhelming pain._

_“Close your eyes! Come on, get him out of your head!” the voice cries, desperate. The falling boy doesn’t register him, throat too dry to even respond. He can only taste the bitter taste of death. The taste of pain._

_“Junnie! Fuck, you’re in too deep,” the voice mutters. Junnie? Sounds nice. Is that his name? He thinks that maybe in a different life, he’d love to have a name like that—_

_Bzzt!_

Dejun yelps, jolting awake. He’s facing away from the vortex now, greeted with the sight of the ocean as he feels Kunhang squeezing him in a bear hug.

“Oh thank fuck,” Kunhang croaks, his eyes closed. “I thought I lost you too.”

Dejun doesn’t respond, too busy trying to process everything. That dream… it wasn’t real. It was just the god trying to pull him under.

“I can’t do this,” Dejun croaks, voice failing him. He can’t even muster a bit of Pyro, too weak as his head spins from falling all of this time. Kunhang grips onto his shoulders.

“You don’t have to,” Kunhang whispers, grip loosening. Dejun is slow, too slow to understand what he means until Kunhang’s let go of him, pulling something out of his pocket. An Anemo amber.

“Hey,” Kunhang begins, eyes full of tears. “I love you.”

Dejun’s mouth falls open in shock, unable to respond as the amber explodes, the gale of wind pushing him upwards and cushioning his descent towards the ocean as Dejun watches Kunhang cover himself in Electro, twisting towards Oslai. A trace of Pyro remains, just enough for one last Overload as Kunhang pushes himself towards it.

Oslai wails, flailing his tentacles around as one of them collides with Kunhang, knocking him deeper into the vortex. It takes every fibre of Dejun’s body to not look after him, letting the tears slowly roll down his cheeks instead, once again.

They say Electro vision holders are mysterious, complicated and protective. Willing to sacrifice everything if it meant whatever they’re protecting is safe.

And at this moment, watching Kunhang fly out of his field of view, Dejun can’t help but curse the gods for making him what Kunhang deems his everything.

Dejun’s vision goes white from the force of the Jade Chamber slamming down on Oslai, taking advantage of the momentary distraction. Golden light takes over everything, the effects of the seal taking hold as the god’s entire body falls under the waves. Dejun can spot a small pillar of Geo rising out of the ocean, flying towards him.

A pair of arms manage to snatch him out of the air, pulling Dejun with it as he looks up to try to spot his saviour.

“Kunhang,” Dejun croaks, too weak to process anything. “You need to save—”

“I’ve got him,” the voice responds, the same deep timbre Dejun swears he’s heard countless times in the halls of the Adventurer’s Guild. A familiar one. One he knows by heart.

“Rest, Junnie. It’ll be okay,” Yukhei tells him, glowing even brighter than Kun or any of the Adepti. As if he was a god. As if—

“Rest.”

Dejun wakes up to the faint sound of songbirds and the wind blowing through the leaves outside. His entire body aches, a dull kind of pain that hums in the undercurrent of his brain. He wiggles his toes experimentally, trying to figure out what part of his body works and what doesn’t. Thankfully, everything seems to be intact.

Dejun’s eyes flutter open slowly, letting the morning sunlight filter in. He can vaguely make out the ceiling of his place back in the Adventurer’s Guild, the wooden beams on the ceiling familiar pattern as they all lead to the windowsill. Dejun follows it with his gaze, tracing the beams all the way to the source of his light and sound as he rolls his head to the side and—

Dejun freezes.

Oh. This was even better outside of his imagination.

The light morning sunlight from the outside falls perfectly over Yangyang’s hair, illuminating the light green streaks in his hair. A drop of sunlight curves perfectly along his cute little earlobes, illuminating his soft cheekbones before resting over Yangyang’s eyelashes and Dejun thinks he might be in the Celestias already. Yangyang’s lips are knitted into a slight smile like he’s having a pleasant dream and Dejun dares not to wake him up. He doesn’t want to, anyway, content with just staring. He was so terrified he’d never see him again.

Stupid Yangyang and his stupid chivalrous ideologies of self-sacrifice for the good of others. He should’ve stayed back on the rooftop, where Dejun told him to stay. Still, Dejun should’ve known he couldn’t stop Yangyang’s core philosophy that’s caused the rift between him and Kunhang. All Dejun can do is bridge the gap between them.

Yangyang is tucked into the crevice between Dejun’s cheek and collarbones, legs tangled between Dejun’s own and his arms grazing against Dejun’s chest. His shoulders are bunched up, appearing much smaller than he actually is. Dejun can’t help himself, leaning up to press a soft peck onto Yangyang’s forehead, as gently as possible.

Still, the action stirs Yangyang out of his sleep.

“Mmh?” Yangyang hums, voice thick with sleep. Something tugs hard in Dejun’s chest, warm and insistent. Dejun wonders if this is what love feels like.

“Morning,” Dejun greets gently, surprised at how deep his own voice sounds. And how it’s surprisingly not hoarse. Probably some cool magic healing thing from whoever got him back here.

Yangyang doesn’t open his eyes, but his lips tug into a wider smile. “What time is it?” Yangyang asks. Dejun hums, unsure of it himself. He glances at the clock on the wall, trying to make out the hands in his sleepy daze.

“9 AM,” Dejun guesses. Yangyang grumbles, slowly fluttering his eyes open. Dejun meets his pretty irises, slowly drowning in them as Yangyang blinks languidly. He burrows his face deeper into Dejun’s chest, breath fanning over Dejun’s neck now as Yangyang sighs.

“How long have I been out for?” Dejun asks as one hand instinctively raises to card through Yangyang’s hair, holding the soft strands between his fingers. Yangyang purrs, like a fucking cat. It really shouldn’t be as cute as it is.

“Two days,” Yangyang mumbles, clinging on harder. “Although you did wake up yesterday for like, ten seconds.”

Dejun frowns. He tries to scour his brain for memories of the fall. He remembered jumping off of the Jade Chamber to do something incredibly stupid with Kunhang to give the others an opening. He remembers faintly staring into the Vortex and nearly losing his mind. And then after that—

“Xuxi,” Dejun realizes, suddenly awake, trying to push himself up. Bad idea. Everything hurts. Yangyang whines, pulling him back to sleep and Dejun silently agrees. No moving for now.

“Is Xuxi…” Dejun begins to ask, trailing off as his brain kicks into overdrive. It makes so much sense. The Geo shard. His perch away from prying eyes and connections. His strange passiveness to the whole situation.

But then, that begs the question. Why?

“I’ll let him explain that,” Yangyang mutters. “It’s his secret to tell.”

Dejun hums, slightly disappointed. He’s itching to run out and find Yukhei and sit him down, grilling the whole story out. But what Yangyang says, Yangyang gets. At least, that’s how it works in Dejun’s mind.

Almost annoyingly, the door swings open at that moment, the creak of the door rudely pulling Dejun out of his nice haze. He hopes Yangyang’s down to more cuddles later. He’s just so comfortable to cuddle with.

“You’re awake. Perfect,” comes Sicheng’s voice. Dejun looks up, untangling his legs from Yangyang’s, much to Yangyang’s protest.

“The Rite of Passing is happening in three hours,” Sicheng explains. “Kun told me to go get Yangyang. But he’ll be happy to know you’re awake too.”

Dejun smiles at him, feeling a small prickle of happiness in his chest. He has people who care enough to miss him now. It’s a feeling beyond comparison.

“How’s Kunhang?” Dejun asks. He’s been wondering where that rascal is. That self-sacrificing, idiotic, stupid, imbecilic, one of a kind, kind-hearted, caring and loving—

“Why don’t you come and see for yourself?” Sicheng proposes. “He’s been asking for you since he woke up yesterday.”

Yangyang ends up having to act like a crutch for Dejun, whose body is too weak to support his own weight. He’s been told by Sicheng the overexertion from the fight got to him the worse since he’s the least used to his elemental powers in comparison to everyone else. They meet Ten along the way to Kunhang’s room, who had apparently just helped Kunhang change his bandages. Dejun’s worries multiply tenfold, of course, but Ten reassures him that Kunhang’s fine. They’ll both be back to full health in less than a week.

“Be careful,” Ten warns. “Kunhang got exposed to the Vortex for much longer than you. He’s… a little fragile. Try to be gentle.”

Dejun nods, heeding his warning. Yangyang pushes the door open with Anemo, both hands preoccupied with keeping Dejun upright. Almost instantly, bright light fills Dejun’s vision from the open window in the room. Dejun blinks, readjusting to the light as he finally scans the room. He finds a flower vase on the bedside, a mixture of Glaze Lilies and Silk Flowers in the bouquet.

Slowly, Dejun’s eyes finally land on the bed, or rather, its occupant.

“You’re awake,” Kunhang hums, a dopey smile on his face. There’s none of the flirty playfulness to it, just a smile of pure and utter relief. He doesn’t have a shirt on, but his entire torso seems to be wrapped up in bandages, some of it even coming up to wrap around his shoulder. A nasty purple bruise blooms along his neck, running from Kunhang’s jaw to his shoulder. Dejun winces.

“You look like shit,” Dejun deadpans. Kunhang laughs, barely moving his head. As if it’s too painful to even move his limbs. Dejun can relate.

“I could say the same for you,” Kunhang retorts, his playful side returning and a smile tugs at the corner of Dejun’s lips. Yangyang snorts at them both, helping Dejun hobble over to the chair by Kunhang’s bedside. He flies a stool over from the other side of the room with his Anemo, sitting down across from Dejun.

Dejun sighs, not knowing quite what to say. Kunhang looks fine, for the most part, perfectly put together if one looks past the physical injuries on him. But upon closer inspection, there’s a frailty to this image. As if Kunhang’s still trying to put together an act and appear much more okay than he actually is. Clearly, he doesn’t want to be reminded of that night yet.

“Are you coming with us to the Rite of Passing?” Dejun asks instead. “I’m sure Yangie can float us there.”

Yangyang rolls his eyes. “What am I, your personal taxi?” he snorts. “Ten or Sicheng can take you too. I also nearly died.”

Dejun turns to him with sudden guilt. He had forgotten about that for a moment. Yangyang’s probably injured too, but he carried Dejun all the way to Kunhang’s room and—

“Junnie, I’m fine,” Yangyang interrupts. “The wounds all closed up and everything. I can’t fight or anything for the next week, but I can still support you.”

Dejun purses his lips, still hesitant. “We’ll get Ten and Sicheng to help,” he decides. “No more extra strain for you.”

Yangyang rolls his eyes in defiance but doesn’t argue.

Kunhang chuckles, reaching his non bandaged arm over to ruffle Yangyang’s hair. Yangyang almost shies away from it, before accepting his fate.

“I’ll show up,” Kunhang adds. “Spent too much time getting the materials _not_ to show up anyway.”

Dejun frowns, suddenly thinking about the Rite of Passing. It’s a funeral for the Geo Archon, sure, but with his new suspicion… 

Whatever. He’ll grill Yukhei about it later.

They sit in silence for the next few minutes, just basking in each others’ presence and Dejun can’t help but stare. Even when completely injured and almost unable to move, Kunhang looks like one of the most beautiful people on Earth. Dejun can’t believe there was a time when he hated the guy.

Almost on cue, Kunhang runs his hand through his hair, sweeping back some of the strands from his eyes and Dejun can feel his breath hitch in his throat. The bright sunlight is gentle on Kunhang’s otherwise sharp features, like the trickling feeling of warmth from a campfire against the biting cold of a winter day. Dejun thinks he could stare at him all day, just ogling Kunhang and committing every last feature to memory. He’s always thought of Kunhang as a little too knowing of his own attractiveness for his own good, but Dejun was a stupid man back then. Really, how could Kunhang _not_ know he’s attractive with a face like that.

But perhaps, what Dejun ended up falling in love with wasn’t just Kunhang’s overall attractiveness. Because somewhere underneath the flirty side that Dejun’s grown attached to and familiar with, he discovers a different side of Kunhang. A gentler, more worrying and caring side. One of protectiveness and his tendency to put others before him. He comes off as overprotective in some ways, but Dejun just finds it endearing. Sure, he’ll have a lot of work to do to make sure Yangyang and Kunhang don’t fall out again, but then again, all relationships need work.

And Kunhang and Yangyang? They’re worth every ounce of effort Dejun can give.

“Watch your step,” Yangyang warns, holding Dejun back as he points out the stairs. Dejun resists the urge to roll his eyes, letting Yangyang practically baby him as they hobble up the steps towards Yujing Terrace, where the Rite of Passing is happening. It’s somewhat ironic, Dejun thinks, considering that Rex Lapis died there. But the Qixing had insisted they host it here. Yujing Terrace is sacred, according to Kun, and to host the Rite anywhere else would be disgraceful.

“Hey,” Dejun begins, smiling at Yangyang. “Didn’t you say your dream was to walk along Yujing Terrace with a lover in hand?”

Behind them, Kunhang makes a disgruntled noise, leaning against a slightly disgruntled Ten. “Why didn’t you ask me?” Kunhang whines. “I’d be down!”

Yangyang’s cheeks dust pink as he helps Dejun up the last few steps. “It’s just a stupid little thought,” Yangyang mumbles. “I didn’t even think you’d remember it.”

Dejun’s heart melts at the sight. He considers saying something, but fails to grasp the words before Kunhang huffs.

“Your thoughts aren’t stupid, Yangie,” Kunhang points out softly. “I’d be a shitty boyfriend to dismiss them. I know you’re a secret romantic, don’t try to hide it.”

Yangyang’s cheeks flush even further, and Dejun has to resist the urge to lean over and kiss him silly. Unfortunately, Yangyang would most definitely drop him if he does that, and Dejun can’t stand up straight alone right now.

They make it to the now-repaired central fountain without much more fanfare, settling into one of the balconies nearby to watch so random bypassers won’t bump into Dejun or Kunhang. Kun is with them, a relieved smile on his face when he sees the group hobble over. His expression visibly brightens at the sight of Ten, but Dejun decides not to comment on it. He’s no different, after all.

“Where’s Sicheng and Xuxi?” Yangyang asks. Kun gestures towards the entrance of the terrace, where Sicheng is walking in carrying a pot of Everlasting Essence. Probably for the Rite, Dejun thinks.

“And I don’t know where Xuxi is,” Kun shrugs. “Probably somewhere around. You can find him after, the ceremony is about to begin.”

Dejun nods. Yangyang shifts Dejun’s arm on his shoulders, holding him a little further upright as they turn their attention to the center of the Terrace. Dejun can feel a hand wrap around his, slotting perfectly between his fingers as Dejun turns for a moment to look up, catching Kunhang’s gaze. He winks, every bit the Kunhang Dejun knows. Dejun rolls his eyes.

“Citizens of Liyue,” someone bellows, signalling the start of the ceremony. Dejun turns around to see Taeyong standing in front of the fountain. By his side are the other members of the Qixing, all standing tall and imposing.

“The time has come for us to see the Geo Archon pass on,” Taeyong announces. A ripple of sad sighs and whimpers pass through the crowd. Taeyong grimaces, nodding along with them.

“It pains me to see him pass, but we as citizens of Liyue must persist past this terrible event,” Taeyong continues. “Rex Lapis would want us to continue. May he watch over Liyue for eons to come.”

A wave of murmurs ripples through the crowd. “But what about the murderer?” someone shouts. The murmurs rise in volume as people start to shout their confusion. Taeyong raises his hand, and silence befalls the air once again.

“After discussing with the Adepti, we have discovered that Rex Lapis had, in fact, not been murdered by any citizens nor travellers of Liyue,” Taeyong says. “In fact, our lord has been tried in the Celestia for a crime he committed millennia ago. It so happened to coincide with the Rite of Descension, which was why he had fallen in front of his own citizens. Thus, there is no God Slayer in our midst.”

Out of the corner of his eye. Dejun sees a figure move out of the crowd, scoffing to himself. Yukhei looks up to meet Dejun’s stare, giving him a two-finger salute and pointing to one of the Terrace, mouthing two words.

_Come. After._

Dejun gives him a curt nod in return.

“Now, let the Rite of Passing commence.”

Dejun sucks in a breath in anticipation, watching as the four Vision holders of the Qixing form a circle around the central fountain. Taeyong and Doyoung are the first to move, using their Geo to activate the mechanism of the fountain, causing it to start spewing out water. One of the other Qixing members, a guy Dejun learnt to be Yuta, the intimidating commander of the Millieth, makes an odd gesture with his hand, forming some kind of sign with his fingers as the water soars into the sky, swirling into a giant sigil with the symbol of Liyue on it. The final member of the Qixing, the heir to a large salt trade guild in Liyue named Jaehyun, spins his spear around with one hand, gathering Cryo energy before blasting the water with it, solidifying the liquid.

Doyoung flicks his hand again, causing the Noctilucous Jade installed around the Terrace to light up. On cue, they all rise into the air, glowing brilliantly and starting to circle the Terrace as Doyoung brings his hands together. The jade fly towards the fountain, colliding in mid-air as they shatter, a rain of silver dust sprinkling down onto the fountain.

Dejun peers closer, watching as the fountain’s inner mechanism activates again, a small clump of flowers blooming around its exterior. Glaze Lilies, Dejun realizes, smelling the scent of the flowers and feeling the magic of Everlasting Incense cleansing the area of any lingering foul energy.

Finally, Taeyong picks up a small bell and approaches the fountain, not making a sound. He holds the bell up to the fountain, watching as it floats from his hand towards the center of the flowers. Slowly, the Cleansing Bell starts to move by itself as it sways back and forth. The soft, rhythmic hits of the bronze coat ring in the air. Dejun can feel himself almost float as if his spirit was resonating with the sound of the bell. As if a part of him was floating towards the fountain as a parting gift for the Geo Archon.

“May your years of rest be peaceful, O mighty lord of Liyue,” Taeyong bids. “And may the spirits of your beloved citizens carry you into the afterlife. Liyue thanks you for your eons of service, my lord.”

A chorus of ‘Liyue thanks you’ echoes through the crowd, everyone bowing down before the Lord. Even the Qixing slowly descend to their knees, head hanging low. The frozen Sigil above the fountain shatters, sending a small spire of light into the sky as the flowers start to wilt. The nearby trees start to sway as a light breeze blows in, sweeping leaves off of the branches and to the ground. The scent of the Glaze Lilies turns sour as if nature itself weeps for the passed Archon.

An air of sadness falls over Yujing Terrace as if every citizen of Liyue was crying for their beloved Archon. Three thousand and seven hundred years of a contract for the oldest god in the world, nurturing Liyue Harbour to grow into the most prosperous and beautiful city in all of Teyvat. And now, he is gone, and Liyue is forced to enter the world without an Archon, for the first time in its history. Eons of tradition, gone in less than a month.

“And so, this chapter ends,” Sicheng hums to himself, barely audible to anyone outside of their little circle. Dejun purses his lips, knowing a little of the truth. He glances over to one of the overlooks of the Terrace, tucked behind a large tree trunk, where Yukhei looked over the city, uncaring for the whole ceremony. The puzzle pieces just simply slot together. There’s no other explanation.

“Yangyang,” Dejun whispers. “Can you take me over there?”

Yangyang looks away from the scene, blinking at Dejun in confusion before he sees what Dejun is gesturing to. Nodding, Yangyang swings Dejun’s arm off of his shoulders and summons a scoop of Anemo to blow Dejun over towards the overlook. He flies unnoticed across the Terrace, landing on a nearby bench by Yukhei’s overlook. Yukhei looks away from the harbour, meeting Dejun’s inquisitive gaze and sighs.

“How’s it like?” Dejun asks. “Watching your own funeral, O might Rex Lapis.”

Yukhei’s lips tug into a smile as he waves him off. Dejun snorts at him.

“All this time, I can’t believe I’ve been hanging out with a god, and he didn’t even tell me,” Dejun sighs. “Our years of friendship mean nothing to you, huh?”

Yukhei snorts. “I’ve been alive for nearly five thousand years, Junnie. The last decade is nothing in my lifespan,” Yukhei points out. Dejun hums, nodding to himself.

“Then why this year?” Dejun asks. “Why the sudden retirement?”

Yukhei is silent for a moment. Slowly, he steps away from the banister and joins Dejun on the bench, staring into space again.

“I was walking through Liyue one day, wondering to myself what this city has become. The Adepti have long left the harbour, and the rites and ceremonies have long become a formality, as opposed to something needed. Humans now rule over Liyue, not gods. So then, what was I doing, as the God who won’t let go of Liyue?” Yukhei begins, a sad tone to his voice. Dejun doesn’t know how to respond.

“Then, I saw it. A manager was dismissing his workers for the day, telling them ‘You’ve done well. Go home. Your work is over.’ I… I couldn’t help but wonder to myself…” Yukhei trails off, unable to find the words. Dejun hums in sympathy.

“If your work was over too?” Dejun supplies. Yukhei nods.

“Kun was the one who suggested I retire,” Yukhei sighs. “Even though he himself is a couple of thousand years older. He’s the God of Family, though, and I suppose that’s a thing of eternity. As long as life exists, family will exist.”

Dejun nods encouragingly, letting Yukhei continue.

“So we put together a test, of sorts,” Yukhei continues. “To see if Liyue really was ready for its god to leave. And well, life found a way. Even when Oslai came, you all managed to defeat it.”

Dejun cocks his head to the side at that one. “You mean to say,” he begins warily. “That you would’ve stepped in had things gone sideways?”

Yukhei grins at him. “How do you think I was able to save you and Kunhang? Your deaths wouldn’t have mattered to the test. I couldn’t just let you guys die.”

Dejun raises an eyebrow. “Why not?” Dejun asks. “We’re just mortals. Just speckles in your millennia of life.”

Yukhei shakes his head. “Never in my entire life have I met a gang quite like you guys. You, Kunhang and Yangyang. Sure, Kun, Ten and Sicheng have been my brothers for god knows how long, but they’ve never felt enough. But with you guys?”

Yukhei’s lips tug into another content smile. “I think I could spend the last bit of my life with you guys.”

“That’s so cheesy,” Yangyang’s voice comes, pulling Dejun out of his concentration. Dejun looks up to find the others, with Kunhang now leaning against Yangyang for support while Kun, Ten and Sicheng stand behind them. Dejun feels warmth pool at the pit of his heart. He finds himself glancing at Kun, Yukhei’s words in his head. The God of Family.

Family.

Dejun’s found his family, hasn’t he?

“It’s true, though,” Yukhei argues, standing up as he offers a hand out for Dejun. Dejun takes it graciously, only to find himself being pulled into a light hug. Pain blossoms in the back of his mind, but he tries to push it away in favour of turning around and offering a hand out for the others.

“Group hug!” Yukhei cheers, like the puppy that he is. Everyone laughs at his antics, but they all smush together for a group hug anyway. And once again, Dejun feels that now-familiar prick of warmth in the pit of his heart, yearning for the comfort of his friends. He thinks he might be just like Liyue, stepping into a new chapter of his life. And just like Liyue, Dejun isn’t guided by the echoes of the past anymore. No, he’s got people to rely on now. People he can call home.

And maybe, just maybe, Dejun does just that.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on twitter @heonynchans! I yell about the woes of writing, genshin and spam your tl with yangyang like, 24/7


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